Since it was pie that drew me back to the drawing board after some weeks of lazy-Libra somnolence [and Pinterest expeditions], I polished my fork because today is National Pie Day. Next to Christmas, my favorite winter day involves finding the best pie around. For that we make a trek to the Norske Nookin Osseo, Wisconsin whenever possible for a rhubarb pie lovingly hand-made by sweet Norwegian grannies.
Closer to home Perkins has pulled CakePies out of their hat. They are just as the name implies: layers of cake and frosting sitting in a baked pie shell. They're a decadent replacement for rhubarb and likely full of one whole day's calorie allotment, but, like the holidays, once is enough.
Have a wonderful Wednesday, and remember to save your fork, there's pie!
I've known 'urban' hospitality living in Virginia in the early '80s, but our trip south to Arkansas this month brought a whole new meaning to Southern Hospitality. Mena, Arkansas has several home town cafes the best being the Skylight and the Mena Cafe and Vickie's up the road a piece in Hatfield. Here's the best part: homemade pie in every one of them! Too many kinds to remember. Our first visit to the Mena Cafe found the place closed on Mondays. As we sadly turned back to the car the cafe's door opened and out came the owner, her husband,her two daughters and twin granddaughters, inviting us to come in anyway 'if all you want is pie. We have pie. I'll go make a pot of coffee while you decide what kind you want.' Thus began a one week love affair with 'southern' pies: chocolate cream w/meringue, chocolate peanut butter, coconut cream, cherry hand pies, and so on. And on.
Fondly remembering the friendly people of Arkansas, I link a piece of pumpkin pie to ABC Wednesday in honor of the letter P.
JUST BEFORE THE DEATH OF FLOWERS,
AND BEFORE THEY ARE BURIED IN SNOW,
THERE COMES A FESTIVE SEASON WHEN
NATURE IS ALL AGLOW. anon
We've been away in spurts in September [Philadelphia to see Dr. Erica], October [Arkansas and points north] and when we went south the trees at home were still wearing some autumn leaves. I took these on our return to our neighborhood and Owasso Lake. I could stand and watch these golden leaves drop silently right before my eyes. On the way home I saw our neighborhood's elusive little white squirrel who unfortunately doesn't need to wear a bulls eye for the local hungry hawks.