Apple pie. My entire family knows me as “The Pie Guy.” Some don’t even know why I am “The Pie Guy.” For instance, my sister-in-law took me out to a diner the other day. The diner had the best apple pie…no, my Aunt Sue makes the best apple pie! She makes this pie that is, it is a mile high! She makes a tall apple pie. I think that only Superman and I can attack her pie and only he can jump tall buildings in a single bound (you remember the guy with Lois and Jimmy and the Daily Planet). Anyhow, she not only makes her…,I mean–MY Pie with all natural ingredients. Aunt Sue lives in New Hampshire, I think they (New Hampshirites) are born to make apple pie. And she doesn’t bother using any of this ice cream or faux topping. Aunt Sue uses, of course, real, real, real apples; the freshest of cinnamon or is it cimanom. Well, I don’t want to give away any secrets (as though I could), so I will not divulge her recipe. But she does serve it with real whipped cream with just the right amount of vanilla; she doesn’t try to pull any of that canned CO2 crap on me, there is a secret about it all. Only Aunt Sue knows the secret. You might think that your Aunt Sue knows the “secret,” she doesn’t. Only MY Aunt Sue knows the real secret, the real recipe. Only my Aunt Sue will make me MY tall apple pie. Unfortunately, I don’t get up around her part of town as much as I should. Gee, you’d think that I in my fifties could excuse her from her duties. No. Apple pie is my heroin. A tall glass of milk is right there to wash it down. Her brother, just down the road has a dairy farm. Hmm, that gets me thinking: ROAD TRIP!
An Apple Pie Adventure