Pies, Pies, Pies!

November 10, 2010

The past couple of weeks in class we’ve been learning about pies – a personal favorite of mine.  All the talk of pies reminded me of one of my most ridiculous and outstanding memories of pie.

It was a Saturday night.  Blender, myself, and a friend of ours (Big Mac we’ll call him) were sitting around after eating a delicious dinner prepared by Big Mac’s father.  Both of Big Mac’s parents are extraordinary in the kitchen, but on this particular evening, his father took the helm.  When Big Mac’s father cooks, you can expect something a little unusual, a little gourmet, or a little of both.   Tonight, he serves a braised elk roast with fresh pesto on angel hair pasta.  Delicious!

Ordinarily, Big Mac’s mother has plenty of delectable, homemade baked goods on hand.  She’s a master with flour and sugar.  However, tonight, inexplicably, she hasn’t prepared anything.    (This is before Blender and I become dessert masters in our own right, so it doesn’t dawn on us to hit the kitchen and whip up some sumptuous Lemon Squares or a mouthwatering Red Velvet Cake.)  Here we are, craving something sweet and determined to satisfy our need.  We can’t go without the most important meal of the day (dessert).  What can we do?

Luckily, Big Mac recently got his driver’s license.  We could send him to McDonald’s for some pies. It’s a distant second to the luscious homemade pies that we will later learn how to make in Ms. Ruble’s dessert class, but we’re desperate.  There’s one problem, though…   It’s 8:50 p.m.   Only ten minutes until Big Mac’s state-imposed driver’s curfew. We will need to work hard to convince Big Mac’s wonderful parents that it’s okay to let him go get the much-needed pies.   He is sure they’ll say no, but he heads downstairs to ask them anyway.

Anxiously, I sit with Blender on the couch waiting for Big Mac’s return.  We expect the worst but hope for the best.  We can hear Big Mac talking to his parents in persuasive tones, but can’t quite make out the words. It’s a tense couple of minutes –yes, teenage boys get that excited about food—, but suddenly we hear a yell from downstairs.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” yells Big Mac as he sprints upstairs.  Time is of the essence now.  He grabs his shoes and the keys to his ’91 Corolla, then snatches a ten dollar bill out of my hand and heads off, Blender yelling to him to get as many pies as possible.  Blender and I sit in Big Mac’s room talking, trying to kill time until we’re united with those sweet, delicious, second choice  pies.

A McDonald's Apple Pie

Finally, Big Mac returns, McDonald’s bag in hand, FULL of pies (18 to be exact), both cherry and apple.  We barely remember the amazing elk dinner we enjoyed less than an hour earlier, and we tear into those pies like we haven’t eaten in days.  We hardly notice that the pie crust isn’t flaky and the fruit filling is thick and gummy.  Before long we have to slow down.  For those of you who don’t know, 18 pies is a whole lot of pie.  To my surprise, we only have a few pies left at the end of the frenzy, and all of us are able to go to bed with our sweet tooth satisfied!

-Cupcake

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