Peanut Butter Ice Cream Pie with Biscoff Cookie Crust – for Mikey

peanut butter pie

I collapsed into bed, exhausted. Dealing with my brothers illness has taken a toll on me I never expected. When a family member is dying I’m discovering there are a lot of eggshells to be walked on. Am I doing enough? Am I intruding? Am I annoying them calling and checking on things when in reality I hadn’t called and checked on things all that much before he was sick? Will what I’m attempting to do be seen as genuine or as a last minute attempt to be at peace with our relationship? Do you want me around? Do you not? Can I help? Please, what can I do to help? What is the right thing to do?

I haven’t been myself this past month, and I know it. I’ve been flighty and distant and bitchy. I’ve shirked responsibility and have taken retreat into my house when I haven’t felt like dealing with being “on”. So, when I collapsed into bed, spent and worn out and my husband asked me to rub his neck, I sighed, made an unloving remark, turned over and went to sleep.

The one person I love the most in the world – more than my children, more than my brother, more than anyone else – is the one person I’ve been taking for granted. That hit me harder than ever when I woke up to find this tweet on Twitter from blogging friend Jennifer Perillo:

Her husband, the father of her two precious children, had suddenly collapsed and had died from a heart attack. He was gone. The reality of how quickly a loved one can be taken out of our lives hit me hard. What if it were my husband? Would I have regrets about how I had treated him recently? You bet so. I’m lucky enough to have another chance.

It pains me in the worst way that Jennie and her family has to endure what they are going through in order for the rest of us to be reminded to hug our loved ones. Not today, not tomorrow, but now. Now is all we have and tomorrow could be too late.

Through a heartfelt post, another reminder to us all of how raw this time is, Jennie asked us all to join together by making a peanut butter pie in Mikey’s honor. So a pie is what I made…and what hundreds of other bloggers have made… as a simple reminder that life is short. Savor each other, savor the moments and as a tribute to one another love each and every day because it could be the last.

This happens to be another 6 ingredient or less dessert recipe. Have you shared your 6 ingredient or less dessert recipe for the chance to win a $600 American Express Gift Card? If not, head over to my Creamy Biscoff Pudding post now to enter the giveaway.

Peanut Butter Ice Cream Pie with Biscoff Cookie Crust for Mikey

For the crust:

  • 1 package of Biscoff Cookies (approximately 32 cookies)
  • 1/4 cup granulated sugar
  • 8 Tablespoons melted butter
  1. Place Biscoff cookies into a food processor and process until fine crumbs have formed.
  2. Add granulated sugar and melted butter. Mix until well combined.
  3. Press into a 9-inch pie plate.
  4. Bake in a pre-heated 350° oven for 8 minutes.
  5. Remove from oven and cool completely.

For the ice cream:

  • 4 cups vanilla ice cream, softened
  • 1/2 cup crunchy peanut butter
  • 1/4 cup salted peanuts
  1. In a mixing bowl, mix ice cream and peanut butter together on medium speed until combined.
  2. Spoon ice cream mixture into cooled pie crust.
  3. Sprinkle with 1/4 cup chopped peanuts.
  4. Freeze overnight. Remove from freezer 10 minutes before serving.


 

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Comments

  1. says

    Oh, my. I feel your pain. I really do. My brother died 13 years ago after a 2 1/2 year battle with CML. He was barely 31 years old. I felt the same things you are feeling, and I often felt guilty. One thing I learned is there is no play book for dealing with watching your brother die. There is no wrong way. There are just ways. And they pretty much all suck.

    A doubly poignant pie–for your brother and for Mikey. I know your feelings are scraped raw right now. It will get better.

  2. says

    Kristen, there is something extra special that you took the time to make this pie when you own life is consumed with the reality of your brother’s condition. I applaud you for doing it and hope that this effort and the love that has been generated for Jennifer will envelope you too. We’re here for you when you need us.

    Clear Head. Full Heart. Can’t Lose.

    That is you today.

  3. says

    thank you for again being honest and raw. the pie is gorgeous and it represents to me, memories and moments.

    i needed to be reminded of the “here and now” …

    thank you.

  4. says

    This is another touching post at what is obviously a horrible horrible time. You are so open about your ordeal (in a positive way, not overly-so way dont get me wrong!) , I hope you are keeping as strong as possible during this experience that i dont even think i could begin to imagine. My thoughts are with you also

  5. says

    I am experiencing the same with my mother, even though I am the primary caretaker. I feel guilty for not being there for so many years, as I lived on a different continent. My mom has always been there for me and my girls and I have to be here for her now.
    I understand how you feel. Jennie’s Twitter announcement has hit me hard and I cried for hours, thinking of my daughters and my husband.
    Thank you for this beautiful post. I am so sorry about your brother and I wish that I could give you a real hug instead of a virtual one.

  6. says

    Beautiful post, Kristen. I know we have all felt the same way when we read Jennie’s tweet and blog post. Losing someone we love is never easy. I know we are relatively new friends, but I want you to know that I am here for you if you ever want to talk, email, or tweet. {hugs}

  7. says

    Oh my gosh :-( I’m in tears here from your post and Jennifer’s. I spend so much time working all the time that I had no idea any of this was going on. This is a beautiful post. I wish I had realized, I would have baked along as well.

  8. says

    Kristen, this is such a gut-wrenching and honest post. I appreciate how you share the real true emotion that comes along with a dying loved one. Not just the sadness, but the uncertainty, the guilt and all the other tricky emotions. Thank you for this.

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