urbanfoodie

*20-something, filipina american urbanite
(Minneapolis via NYC, SF, & the Chicagoland area)
*creator, consumer, and all-around enthusiast of food
Jun 16
An Abridged Love Letter to Pie Dear Pie, I just spent over two hours excruciatingly crafting a letter professing the history of my complicated feelings for you. By some act of the pie gods (i.e., finicky internet in my bedroom), it was all lost and now I just don’t have it in me to get into the whole thing. So hopefully you’ll accept this brief (but earnest!), bullet pointed version of that letter: I may sometimes say that I’d rather have cake but really, I think you are wonderful. You are a lovely combination of textures and, when paired with ice cream, temperatures. Why do I have such ambivalence?  1) I am reminded of my inadequacy as a baker whenever I attempt to make your crust. You’re really not all that easy.  2) All this talk of “as American as apple pie” puts me, a girl born and raised in the Chicagoland area to a Filipino mother who never once attempted a pie, on the defensive. Oh yeah, well, I find more truth in something easy being a “piece of cake.” Furthermore Cake never had undertones of cultural essentialism.  Last weekend, I swallowed my pride and tried again. Because I still really do like you…and I had two tubs of lard in my freezer from Clancey’s that need to be used.  Here’s the recipe for the crust from the NYTimes, where I substituted half the butter for lard. This is the recipe for the strawberry-rhubarb (fresh from the market) filling. The pie turned out to be another imperfect endeavor. The kicker? I am okay with that. It may look like a casualty in a slasher flick and the crust may have been too crumbly, but friends and colleagues loved it anyway. I did too. The bottom line is: I love you, Pie. Our complicated relationship? It’s not you, it’s me. I need to get over my insecurities if I want to really go anywhere with my pie-making. Learn from my mistakes and keep on making pie. Otherwise, I need to accept that maybe I wasn’t meant to make perfect pie and then be free to love you solely as a pie-eater. Yours, Steph

An Abridged Love Letter to Pie

Dear Pie,

I just spent over two hours excruciatingly crafting a letter professing the history of my complicated feelings for you. By some act of the pie gods (i.e., finicky internet in my bedroom), it was all lost and now I just don’t have it in me to get into the whole thing. So hopefully you’ll accept this brief (but earnest!), bullet pointed version of that letter:

  • I may sometimes say that I’d rather have cake but really, I think you are wonderful. You are a lovely combination of textures and, when paired with ice cream, temperatures.
  • Why do I have such ambivalence? 
  • 1) I am reminded of my inadequacy as a baker whenever I attempt to make your crust. You’re really not all that easy. 
  • 2) All this talk of “as American as apple pie” puts me, a girl born and raised in the Chicagoland area to a Filipino mother who never once attempted a pie, on the defensive. Oh yeah, well, I find more truth in something easy being a “piece of cake.” Furthermore Cake never had undertones of cultural essentialism. 
  • Last weekend, I swallowed my pride and tried again. Because I still really do like you…and I had two tubs of lard in my freezer from Clancey’s that need to be used. 
  • Here’s the recipe for the crust from the NYTimes, where I substituted half the butter for lard. This is the recipe for the strawberry-rhubarb (fresh from the market) filling.
  • The pie turned out to be another imperfect endeavor. The kicker? I am okay with that. It may look like a casualty in a slasher flick and the crust may have been too crumbly, but friends and colleagues loved it anyway. I did too.

The bottom line is: I love you, Pie. Our complicated relationship? It’s not you, it’s me. I need to get over my insecurities if I want to really go anywhere with my pie-making. Learn from my mistakes and keep on making pie. Otherwise, I need to accept that maybe I wasn’t meant to make perfect pie and then be free to love you solely as a pie-eater.

Yours,

Steph

pie | letters | anthropomorphism | strawberry | rhubarb | Comments (View)
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