This morning, I found myself extolling the virtues of Alicia's Sour Cream Apple Pie to some friends.
I'd made it on Sunday, in lieu of a birthday cake for hubs (whose birthday fell on the busiest Saturday in living memory the day before - you know the sort I mean - when the family need to be in many different places at slightly offset times and parents need to focus and be sociable, when quite frankly, we would rather be hunkered down with a coffee and the weekend papers).
By Sunday, we had all earned a nice slice of pie. But before I could hit the oven, I had manfully volunteered for the Sunday touchline shift at Rugby training. Hubby was to be gifted a couple of hours peace at home. The pie would have to wait.
And then the pictures began appearing on my phone. Sue was in her kitchen, making pie. It looked suspiciously like MY planned pie. Instagram confirmed it - the very same recipe! Her pie moved on - ingredients in a bowl, pie shell filled, topping sprinkled on and fresh out of the oven. I was salivating like Pavlov's dog - marooned in the field with only my rapidly cooling coffee for company.
I bundled muddy boys into the car and raced home. Seldom before has a recipe had to live up to such heightened anticipation. Luckily, this one delivered.
So this morning, I was praising the wondrous pie to some playground friends. Sounds good, they said - which book does the recipe come from? Oh, it's online, I replied - google 'Posy Gets Cosy Sour Cream Apple Pie'. When they rolled their eyeballs at me, I decided against telling them about the Instagram pie envy episode. But you get it, don't you?
How the whole weird online sharing thing can not only point you towards a recipe for a good pie, but enhance the whole experience of baking it and eating it. Or are we just turning into a world of compulsive over-sharers? Discuss.