The Riccis’ Pot Pie Adventure

You can guess that dinner time around our house was usually hectic.  Not only were their many mouths to feed, but with so many kids, each one’s tastes varied wildly from plain and ordinary to strangely sinful.  Unfortunately, our food budget was mostly on the lean side and there were many days where we had to make do with very little.  Mind you, we never went hungry, ever. 

I remember one evening coming home from school finding my two oldest sisters giggling incessantly in the kitchen as if they had just heard the latest Johnny Carson monologue.  “What’s so funny?” I asked.  “We were just joking about whether to get out the fancy silverware and cloth napkins for our dining experience this evening,” my sister Celia replied. “Sorry, I still don’t get it,” I said with a smirk. 

“Well, it’s no wonder because you haven’t heard about tonight’s entrée, have you?”  Celia barked.  With that, she opened the oven door and let me have a peek.  “Oh my God!  Where did they come from?” I asked.  “We have no idea!” my other sister Rene said. “They were in the freezer and there was a note tacked up on the door from mom indicating that they were tonight’s dinner.”   I stood in amazement looking at nine Banquet Frozen Chicken Pot Pies sitting on the oven racks.  This was indeed a treat for our family.  We usually only get TV dinners on holiday evenings when nobody has the time to cook any kind of edible dinners.

My sister closed the oven door and told me to listen for the timer.

I couldn’t help recalling the television ad for these delicious pot pies that I’d seen many times.  The mother would be standing in the kitchen in a fancy apron, with a set of fake pearls around her neck, pondering what she should make for her family for dinner that night.  With her hand on her chin and a look of befuddlement on her face, she would reach for the freezer door handle and slowly open it up before the camera.  Her facial expression would change from puzzled to euphoric in a second after seeing the 40 various Banquet brand food products neatly lined up in the giant Amana frost-free freezer compartment.  Funny, but there was no ice cream, no cans of frozen orange juice, no packages of Bird’s Eye frozen brussel sprouts and not even one container of Cool Whip topping.  Just Banquet pot pies.  My first thought was that this very strange housewife was just plain stupid for not remembering that her entire freezer was filled to capacity with frozen dinners, and yet she still wondered what she could possibly make for supper. 

Then, of course, you see her opening up the oven door with potholder-covered hands.  She then whisks out the baking pan with four golden brown steaming pot pies on it and sets it down on the stovetop. Without hesitation, you see her yanking off the paisley flower-printed apron from around her neck and tossing it on the counter, while yelling to her invisible family to come sit down to dinner. 

So, I ask myself, why did she need to wear an apron to simply rip open four paper boxes and place the pies into the oven? Did she expect that one of them might explode and get some chicken gravy all over her precious house frock?  

Her family finally arrives at the dining table, and as you would expect, it is all decked out with a fancy tablecloth, a flowery center piece made of daisies and daffodils (the cheeriest of all flowers), and two tall tapered white lit candles, one at either end of the table.  There is a place setting of four different pieces of cutlery, even though for this meal you only need one small spoon, and a fancy cloth napkin folded like some exotic origami prehistoric flying bird. 

The dad and the two youngsters are all smiling from ear to ear as they sit down to this incredible pot pie that mom had set before them.  As they dig in, you are given a close-up of the pot pie filling, under the golden crust brimming with peas, carrots, chunks of potato, a few green beans, and large chunks of white meat chicken.  You can almost smell the richness of the gravy while watching the steam rise from the inside of the pie. The mom is just thrilled that she pulled off the meal of the century once again for her adoring family.

Ding!  I came back to reality once I heard the oven timer bell go off.  My sister came running and told me to set the table for dinner.

I reached into the cupboard and pulled out nine flat plates.  Three of them had the same pattern because they came as free gifts in boxes of Cheer detergent. Two of them had chips broken off the rims, but were still usable.  I set them around the dining room table.  We only used tablecloths on holidays and even that was a hit or miss decision at times.  Next, I set out the spoons and the paper napkins.  There were no long, lighted, white taper candles or vases of fragrant daffodil flowers, but we did have a set of Lady and the Tramp salt and pepper shakers on the table.

“Dinner!” I yelled at the top of my lungs.  Kids came running in and pot pies were plopped on each kid’s plate. “Watch out, these are very hot,” my sister said.  The younger kids weren’t as excited as the older ones.  To them it was just something to eat. 

I, along with at least two siblings, were excited to enjoy such a rare and delightful change of meal options such as pot pie. 

Without much reluctance, I turned my pot pie over and removed the foil liner.  The smell was wonderful, just as I reminisced it would be from the TV commercial.  But once I pierced through the pie crust, it all went to hell from there.  Inside, instead of finding all the mouthwatering vegetables like in the ad, there were about eight peas, a half-dozen or so small, cubed pieces of carrots, and among the river of yellow unappetizing gravy I counted five tiny little cubes of chicken.  To say I was disappointed was an understatement.  “They should call this a chicken gravy pie!” I said to my sister.  “Is yours all just gravy and crust too?” I asked.  My other sister said she counted six pieces of chicken in hers. “Wow aren’t you lucky!” I frowned.  “Well, what the hell did you expect for 69 cents?” she said.

I knew right there and then that I should go into advertising.  That TV ad for Banquet Chicken Pot Pies was pure genius.  It sure got us to part with our hard-earned money. 

Maybe next time we’ll try the Swanson brand.