And then there's my story . . . it was my first anniversary and the menu was steak, baked potatoes, Caesar salad and a fresh blueberry pie (we were from Maine, after all). A good friend arrived unexpected just as I was in the middle of baking the pie. He was unaware of the special day and we didn't want to embarrass him so we chatted as if this was a regular day. I was distracted by the engaging conversation, the timer went off, and a look at the pie told me it was cooked to perfection. I lifted it ever so carefully out of the oven, only to have the lip of the pie plate hit the edge of the oven rack. In (it seemed) slow motion, the pie tipped in its entirety upside down. In the hot oven, it hit the top rack, broke into pieces and hit the lower rack, breaking into smaller bits, all while sizzling and smoking, It ended up, of course, plastered on the bottom of the oven, instantly baking on, blackening and smoking up the whole apartment! Needless to say, hours later, our guest long gone, I was trying to get the mess cleaned up. This was 1970, well before the days of automatic oven cleaning. Oh, to have had the foresight to have taken a photograph!

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