Pie Porn: Promontory Pie

I have an unnatural lust for perfectly made, mouthgasm inducing fruit pies.

In some sort of misguided effort to prevent me from being one of those people you see on TLC  who are so obese that they haven’t left the house in 25 years, God has rendered me unable to create flaky pastry goodness myself. I am reliant upon the talents and offerings of others, often forced to take my depravity to the local grocery store, to get a quick fix with a flimsy and poor quality blueberry pie. After my recent pie procurement woes, I was left empty handed, but proud enough not to stoop to buying a cheap imposter at Safeway. I decided I would deny my pie craving, and resort to eating Revello bars instead.

One day, as I was surfing along the internet in the usual way, a figure stepped out of the darkness, and approached me:

“Psst. Hey. You. Lady. Are you looking for….some *whisper* pie?”

My synapses crackled. My mind leaped at the mention of the very thing I was craving most.

“Why yes…I am looking for some pie! *whimper*”

“You should try my pie before you leave for Winnipeg. It’s very good, and I enjoy making it.”

“Yes! I need this pie! Tell me more!”

“Meringue or latice crust top? What kind of fruit? I can make you what you need with 24 hours notice…”

“Strawberry rhubarb! Crust top! Next Tuesday! *Pavlovian drooling*”

“Meet me at my place at 4, bring $10, and I’ll have the pie ready…”

And with that, I had a new Pie Dealer.

A source of fresh and ready fruit pies, waiting for me when I needed them most. Right down the street.

Kristi, the mother of one of my daughter’s classmates, became my Pie Pimp.

I waited the long days leading up to the transaction, with the nervous anticipation of a junkie waiting to plunge the syringe. I cursed myself for leaving a whole weekend in between my order and pick up. By the time Tuesday afternoon rolled around, I was frantic. I arrived at Kristi’s door, shaking and drooling. What if it was horrible? What if she was one of those “So You Think You Can Bake?” contestants who tossed some canned filling in a Tenderflake crust, and I was going to have to smile and pretend that it was good the next time I saw her at school? Oh! The cruel anticipation!

What awaited me was beyond my wildest pie fantasies…for Kristi hath produced a pie of epic and foodie porn proportions.

Large, golden, fragrant – she handed me the steaming pie and I was on my way.

My children, fellow Pie Whores, lept forward to pick the top as I slid the pie into the back of the mini-van.

“NO! DO NOT TOUCH THE PIE! YOU WILL SURELY DIE! IT IS FOR DESSERT!”

The pie sat, lonesome in the back of the van while the kids went to ballet class. I couldn’t keep my mind off that gorgeous pastry, waiting for me in the car. I could just sneak out and dive face first into it…

I waited. We went home. I cooked dinner. I fed the family.

Then, the moment of truth.

My husband and I stood in the kitchen, and admired the pie.  I slid in a knife and extracted a piece.

Perfection!

Then, we savaged it.  We ravaged that tart, and we ravaged it good.

Oozing rivulets of  tangy rhubarb and strawberry rolled forth, melding with a sweet but subtly salty crust that released bursts of joyous flavor with every crunch. It tasted better than it looked, and I had to refrain from eating the entire thing in a sitting. The consensus was that this was quite possibly the Most Epic Pie in the history of Chilliwack, and it was bountiful enough to feed the four of us for three evenings of desert.

Angels sang. Heaven opened up. Unicorns and rainbows filled the air.

All was right again in my world, and now? I know where to get the goods when I need them most. No more dumpster diving at Save-On foods bakery for three day old pumpkin pies! No more cracking open cans of pie filling and pouring it into frozen shells! Pie salvation!

I would love to put you in touch with Kristi, so you too can get in on the perfect pie, but she is in the middle of moving across town with four little kids and is likely indisposed for the time being. Should that change, dear readers, I’ll let you know how you can find her baked offerings, so that you too can share in the addiction.

Thanks, Kristi! It was soooooooo good!

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7 thoughts on “Pie Porn: Promontory Pie

  1. It’s possible that your love of pie may match my own. In fact shortly before the birth of my youngest, I spent several months investigating the possibility of opening a pie only restaurant – savory and sweet. I still think it’s a good idea. I’m just too lazy to do it at the moment.

  2. I cannot remember the last time I had a piece o’ pie. Because they do nothing for me. I do not crave Mom’s hot apple pie, nor do I seek out pie in any form or fruity composition.
    But your story – your enthusiasm – made me laugh, actually made me think I might be missing something, pie-wise. Thanks for the heads-up 🙂

    • See, that’s how I feel about chocolate. I watch everyone else on planet Earth run around, frenzied about chocolate, chocolate, chocolate – and I stand there, wondering what the big deal is. I don’t want it, I don’t like it, and I don’t understand it.

      Maybe you’ve never had great pie before? Maybe I’ve only had crappy chocolate.

  3. Not the dreaded rhubarb! Ack!

    However, it is a pretty pie. The crust looks awesome.

    I do have pie crust skillz, so I think I see a blackberry pie in my future.

    • Snort. Before I even came to moderate the quote, I knew you’d be cursing my beloved rhubarb. I believe you initially referred to it as “Satan’s Weed.”
      The pie was amazing. Imagine it being peach and raspberry or something if you persist in your unbelief of Rhubarbdom.

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