When I was eleven, I decided I wanted to make a homemade chocolate cream pie all by myself. My mom handed me the recipe and said, “I’ll be in my bedroom if you need me.” She later admitted that she would have gone crazy watching me cook since I was just learning.
I followed the recipe—or so I thought. It called for three tablespoons of cornstarch, but instead, I added three tablespoons of baking soda. When the instructions said to “bring to a boil,” I couldn’t understand why the pie filling foamed wildly over the top of the pan. Frustrated and confused, I called my mom into the kitchen for help.
The moment she entered the kitchen, she quickly grabbed a second pan and began pouring part of the pie filling into it to manage the overflow. But the filling kept growing. The kitchen was in chaos.
That’s when my mom started questioning what ingredients I had added. She carefully went down the list on the recipe card with me. When we reached the cornstarch, I proudly pointed to the baking soda container and said, “I added cornstarch!”
My mom gave me a look of disbelief and calmly explained that I had added the wrong ingredient. “This pie filling is no good,” she said. “When you thought you were adding cornstarch, you were adding baking soda.”
That was when I learned an important lesson: You can do everything else just right, but one wrong move can still turn everything into a big disaster.
Years later, when I was eighteen, I had the opportunity to work at two different places that made pies. These jobs gave me hands-on experience and introduced me to new techniques. I learned how to perfect pie crusts, balance flavors, and create smooth fillings. One Thanksgiving season, I spent 18 hours in a single Saturday making pies at Marie Callender’s. It was exhausting but rewarding, and I came to truly appreciate the art of pie-making. I’m incredibly thankful for the training I received during that time, as it helped shape my confidence and skills in the kitchen.
Over the years, I’ve found myself teaching women’s groups how to create the perfect pie crust and fillings that are both delicious and memorable. What started as a childhood failure became a stepping stone to success in baking. My early mistakes in the kitchen were frustrating at the time, but they ultimately paved the way for me to become better at something I love.
I’ve discovered that asking questions and admitting what you don’t know are key to learning and growth. Acting like you know it all only holds you back. I’m constantly finding new ways to improve, whether it’s perfecting a pie or addressing other challenges in life. Learning what works—and what doesn’t—has become one of my greatest joys.
In cooking and in life, every failure can teach us something. Mistakes may seem discouraging in the moment, but they can become stepping stones to something better. I certainly didn’t know it at eleven years old, standing in a kitchen with chocolate pie filling foaming out of control, but that disaster was teaching me how to learn.
Sometimes mastery begins with making a mess.
Missed last week’s story? Read Beyond the Broom here.
