Friday, October 19, 2012

Super-Sized Mini Pies

I just got done baking for the bake sale tomorrow.  I made five large pies, one of which has already been claimed by Mike and Nick.  The pie Mike cut into was apple.  He is very happy now that I've finally made pie.  He brought home those apples early in the week, beautiful little apples that someone at work picked and gave to him.  I really should make a pie for them as well, shouldn't I?  The funny thing about Mike and the way I make pie, you'd think it was part of our marriage contract or an effort I make to support his leadership in Boy Scouts.  Mike takes his pie very seriously. 

I also made four mini pies. I know that most people will buy one and eat the whole thing.  These small pies really should serve two people, but that's how it is in our culture these days. Even the little pie pans you buy at the store have been super-sized. 

Have you gotten a soda at a movie theater lately?  Well, our family doesn't usually drink soda any more, but I've looked at those cups when I see some moms buying one for her children.  A large drink is almost a half gallon of liquid!  And it's all high fructose corn syrup.  There used to be a commercial that stated that your body can't tell the difference between real sugar and high fructose corn syrup, but Nick's can.  It gives him a stomach ache, instantly. That volume alone would interrupt my movie-viewing pleasure!  I hate missing parts of the movie to stand in line at the ladies room with all those other women and their little girls who tried to drink a half gallon of Dr. Pepper before the previews were finished. 

Not long ago, Mike, Nick and I stopped at a restaurant for breakfast and I was served an omelet on a turkey platter that looked like it contained a half dozen eggs and a whole brick of cheese.  Even the leftovers would have served two or three people.  I never did like leftover eggs anyway.  Two eggs, two slices of bacon and as many vegetables as you can cram into the eggs.  That's about all I need.  And skip the toast unless the cook watched the bread rise himself. 

I'd love to experience food in France where I've been told the servings are truly for one person but placed so beautifully on a plate that you don't care.  I love beautiful food, the colors in a salad, the artistry of sushi, the fluted crust on a good pie. 

Here's the funny thing about pie.  I can't really eat my own pie any more.  Isn't that sad?  Well, I think it's sad.  Oh, occasionally, I'll have a narrow slice, but there is always a lot more sugar there than my system can take. 

Whining! 

Poor baby, poor baby, poor baby.

Okay, I'm done. 

I just think that the food culture in the United States could do with more examination.  That said, I'd love a good cannoli.  It might be worth going into a diabetic coma for a good cannoli. 

Thank you for listening, jb

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