The Sunday Pie Sonata
Now, then. We all have our little obsessions. Whist games, light bondage before breakfast, shoe shopping, Colin Firth... Mine is pie. It is almost entirely inconsequential what type of pie. I adore it and will do just about anything for it. Particularly if guaranteed good crust.
So today after a hellish sweaty fifty minutes of sit-ups and cardio-torture, Steven insisted that our mid-day meal would be taken at Lois the Pie Queen on 60th and Adeline, Oakland.
"Meal" can be loosely defined as a slice of chilly, oozy about the edges lemon icebox pie and a slice of barely warmed divine pecan pie, accompanied by a classic cup of nearly black, dense coffee.
The owner, a tall handsome be-dreded black man, shook our hands warmly, welcomed us in and plopped us into a window seat. While stopping by at regular 9 minute intervals with the coffee pot, he addressed me only and often as "Sweetie". When I has halfway through my pie duet with an insanely stupid smile on my face, this charming man asked me what paper I wrote for and I had to confess that I did not write for any paper. I did not tell him about us and this little blogg-ish experiment. I did not tell him my passion for crust.
Is there some sign on my forehead saying: "I like to write about pie"? Is it so evident? I am that transparent?! Oh, yes. Yes. Yes.
Lois the Pie Queen (cash only, Sweetie): where mac & cheese and the World's best potato salad are considered vegetables.
So today after a hellish sweaty fifty minutes of sit-ups and cardio-torture, Steven insisted that our mid-day meal would be taken at Lois the Pie Queen on 60th and Adeline, Oakland.
"Meal" can be loosely defined as a slice of chilly, oozy about the edges lemon icebox pie and a slice of barely warmed divine pecan pie, accompanied by a classic cup of nearly black, dense coffee.
The owner, a tall handsome be-dreded black man, shook our hands warmly, welcomed us in and plopped us into a window seat. While stopping by at regular 9 minute intervals with the coffee pot, he addressed me only and often as "Sweetie". When I has halfway through my pie duet with an insanely stupid smile on my face, this charming man asked me what paper I wrote for and I had to confess that I did not write for any paper. I did not tell him about us and this little blogg-ish experiment. I did not tell him my passion for crust.
Is there some sign on my forehead saying: "I like to write about pie"? Is it so evident? I am that transparent?! Oh, yes. Yes. Yes.
Lois the Pie Queen (cash only, Sweetie): where mac & cheese and the World's best potato salad are considered vegetables.
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