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When I was a child, dessert, that adorned the Thanksgiving and Christmas tables, was custard.  A firm, yet smooth and creamy, within its own small bowl; topped with a sprinkling of nutmeg.  No whipped cream, or any other needed; it was pure perfection as Once we moved to Pennsylvania, and began frequenting the markets, custard pies were offered at every bake stall.  The filling was the same wonderful custard, but now baked inside a flaky pie crust.  The best part, I could have this all long!  No more waiting for those special winter holidays.  What could it even better?  Learning to make myself, and not depend on someone else to create it, or hope there was any at the market…
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