As I write, a pumpkin pie is making the rounds to all of The Gang of Eight’s homes. The otherworldly pastry was originally, purchased for a party attended by the whole group. Given the size of the party to be served the initial purchasers – no doubt- felt that a very large one was needed. The pie that eventually showed up at table was twice the size of a Major League catcher’s mitt and only slightly smaller than a full moon.
The day after the pie premiered, it showed up at my house in time for lunch and I am now forced to pass it on to the next home. After three days of consumption I have no doubt that the pie will be no smaller than it was at the time of purchase. it reminds me of the miracle of the five loaves and two fishes…a reality defying manifestation of some higher power.
I can only conclude that some day we will all be buried by a landslide of pumpkin pie. It will slide over us silently and inexorably.
On the positive side of the ledger the pie is very good. I am up at night speculating about the time that the massive tin foil dish will be empty…can that happen?
The down-side of the big box store is manifest. There is a good feeling in knowing that you have 30 gallons of mayonnaise but how much tuna salad can you eat? Perhaps a case of spontaneous generation occurs while I sleep. It’s downright eerie.
Beware the friends bearing pie. It’s not as harmless as it looks. Ben Franklin weighed in on my problem. “in general, mankind, since the improvement of cookery, eats twice as much as nature requires.” I wish the intake was only double.
“Anyone want some pie?`
Olio Folio 