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June 01, 2007
Friday Shuffle - The Panic! Pie! Edition
This has nothing to do with the rest of the entry, but I thought I should tell you about this, since tales of my neighborhood will soon be a thing of the past. I had a moment today where, had I not been driving, I wouldn't have known which direction to aim my camera. On one side of the street, a cop had pulled over a school bus. On the other was a local tattoo shop, where a little red truck is often parked. Across the truck's back window is a URL - www.eroticnightdreams.com. I'm not linking to it directly, because I'm a chicken, but feel free to visit them. But probably not if you're at work, unless you work at a place that doesn't have a problem with really unerotic erotic photography. At least now I know where my neighborhood dungeon is located.
Anyway, I've seen this truck many times in my years of living in this neighborhood. I'm pretty sure I've even mentioned it here awhile back. Well, today, while the cop was pulling over the school bus, I got to see what I'm assuming is the unerotic nightmare photographer. He was maybe 60 years old. Or he was 30 and has been nursing a methamphetamine habit for a few years. It's hard to tell around here. Dressed in a faded gray muscle t-shirt, arms covered with faded tattoos, and sporting what is, without question, the most horrifically fabulous hairdo I've ever seen in this neighborhood. And that's saying something, because I live down the street from '80s Lady. Bleached, possibly with Clorox, it would have made a lovely substitute for raffia in, say, a Thanksgiving centerpiece. Not that you'd want this guy's hair on your table. Or in your house. Bangs, much like mine, the rest of his yellow, yellow, yellow as the sun hair reached halfway down his back.
I'm not sure, but I think I recognize him from a Ronnie James Dio video.
Anyway, pie. This is about pie. Specifically, my new recipe, which I've named Panic! Pie!
Why all the exclaimation points? Because I made the pie in a panic, that's why. If you've been reading for any length of time, you know that I have some serious Martha Stewart-style mental problems. Like last week, when I fretted about my recent lack of cooking.
Since we have less than two weeks left in the crapshack, I figured I wouldn't be doing much baking. On Wednesday, I packed my pie plates.
On Thursday, Beqi invited us to Friday night dinner. I bought two pounds of strawberries and a pint of whipping cream. I'll make strawberry pie! With shortbread crust!
Two things happened on Thursday night that led to the mild panic. 1) I spent four hours on the phone, chatting with an old friend of mine, totally forgetting that I was going to make shortbread crust, and 2) I remembered that I'd packed my pie plates.
Panic!
I told you, I have mental problems. Bear with me. It's not like Beqi even asked me to bring dessert. I took that upon myself. Why? Mental problems.
I could have bought a crust, and I intended to, but I spent the entire day at the coffeehouse with Beqi and Raquel and didn't have time. Panic!
We got home, threw Clara Jane down for a brief nap, while I went to work at concocting a pie without a pie plate or crust of any form, with an hour to spare.
First, calm the hell down. It's just pie! Put it on a damn plate.
Second, I've made crumb crusts out of just about anything that I can crumble. Even though I'm in the process of unstocking our pantry, I did manage to find the dregs of a stale box of Annie's Chocolate Chip Bunny Grahams and a tiny box of dollar-store Teddy Graham knock-offs. I dumped it all in a plastic bag, beat the hell out of it with a wine bottle (I was frustrated), and mixed in some butter. A lot of butter.
Next, the strawberries. Too sour to just throw onto the crust. I dumped some sugar on them. Too sweet! Gritty! Panic! Wait - the dregs of a bottle of balsamic vinegar! Yes, vinegar. Shut up. Did you go to culinary school? I didn't think so. Balsamic vinegar and strawberries are made for each other. Besides, I was panicky and it felt good to macerate.
The next part was easy. Homemade whipped cream makes everything good.
But then ... more panic! The macerated berries, while delicious, were soggy. Putting them on my butter-with-crumbs crust? It would soak right through. But I have extra strawberries! I'll make a maceration barrier!
In the background of the photo, you'll notice discarded possible crust ingredients: old panko, whole wheat white hamburger buns leftover from last night's dinner, and half a bag of stale Jay's Sweet n' Sour potato chips.
Next, dump the macerated berries onto the berry barrier in a panic:
Throw on the whipped cream, and add the one strawberry you forgot about to the top, so it looks like you put some thought into this whole crackerjack operation. Hmmm ... Cracker Jacks might make a good crust ...
Finally, transport your pie across town in Friday's waning rush hour traffic, through road construction, in a thunderstorm. Wait panickedly for entire pie to slide off the unprotected side of the plate and onto spouse's lap. Catastrophe doesn't happen. Worry that perhaps some crushed Klonopin would have been an appropriate garnish. Consider going back home to add it.
Arrive at host's home with child who is sleeping in the car seat, wearing nothing but a Pull-Up, because you were too busy making Panic! Pie! to properly wake her from a nap and, you know, put clothes on her. That's okay. Children can get away with near-nudity at a dinner party. And if a child happens to flick a booger the size of a rotini noodle at a dinner guest, well, that's just good entertainment.
Enjoy the pie, along with three hogs' worth of ribs and some damn fine company. Relax, finally, knowing that you can shuffle through the world bearing the ability to make a pie under any circumstances with anything you have on hand. Because you rule.
1. A Call to Apathy - The Shins
2. Starman - Seu Jorge
3. Picture Book - The Kinks
4. How Do You Keep Love Alive - Ryan Adams
5. I've Been Lonely (For So Long) - Frederick Knight
6. Take a Picture - Filter
7. Talk to Me of Mendocino - Kate & Anna McGarrigle
8. Wild Cat Blues - Clarence Williams' Blue Five
9. Abra Cadaver - The Hives
10. Got a Lot on My Head - The Cars
Posted by Robin at June 1, 2007 09:52 PM
Comments
I never had a strawberry and potato chip pie craving until I started reading your blog.
Posted by: Rachel at June 2, 2007 07:47 AM
It is an art to be able to make a pie under such time and material restraints... but to be able to turn it into a great anecdote... pure genius!
Posted by: Lynette Cook at June 2, 2007 08:01 AM
It takes a true artist to create a Panic! Pie!. I bow to your genius!
Posted by: Dixie at June 2, 2007 10:08 AM
Oh yeah, it was as good as it looked. I woke up happy that I could have the last slice for breakfast. Then I licked the plate. And I don't even like pie.
Posted by: Beqi at June 2, 2007 10:54 AM
Balsamic vinegar is a strawberry's best friend. I learned this a long time ago, thanks to the Boston Globe Cooking section.
I will have to find that recipe now...
Posted by: allison at June 2, 2007 11:32 AM
Hello, I recently discovered your blog during a stint of bed rest following foot surgery. I am enjoying it very much - too the point of reading the archives from the beginning. I'm reading from my company issied Blackberry, so I have know idea what kind of trail I'm ledaving but it could,kt possibly be as amusing as the Justice Department.
P.S. Basalmic vinegar was made for strawberries. Sometimes I use a little OJ for something diffferent. My family loves it.
Posted by: hg at June 2, 2007 09:08 PM
I want some pie now too. Also, some klonapin, because I could feel the angst from here! :-) You do rule.
Posted by: jenB at June 3, 2007 12:05 PM
DIO! That's funny. My mother-in-law grew up with him--he's not nearly as "young" as his publicity machine says.
Posted by: Jane at June 4, 2007 03:15 PM
