It's Piehole Time!

“Just around the corner, there’s a rainbow in the sky/so let’s have another cup o’coffee/And let’s have another piece of pie.” ----Irving Berlin

Who doesn't love pie? There is a kind of pie for every appetite, whether it's apple pie brimming with cinnamon and a scoop of ice cream on the side or a summer blueberry pie with fresh-picked fruit and a flaky crust. I would almost venture to say that there aren’t many problems that can’t be solved by having some pie and a cup of coffee, right? Of course, pie and coffee go well with colleagues and conversation, right? If you’re going to have pie, you should share. A pie shape is the ultimate symbol of dividing up resources. So why not share some ideas and a shortcrust too? Invite someone over, bake a pie, put on a pot of coffee, and get down to work. That’s what’s great about a lot of foods and traditions. Sitting down to a meal or a snack with someone is a way to show others who you are. When you own your words, you let people know what you stand for in this crazy world.

My favorite part of being a writer is telling stories under my byline, which is a fancy newspaper term for my real name. Every pie that comes out of a hot oven, with steam shooting up out of the middle and sugar bubbling along the edge of the crust, probably has a story as well. Did it get made with apples picked on a weekend trip to a farm? Did little pudgy toddler hands gather the blueberries in grandma's garden? Maybe it's just me, but honestly, it's about more than just what's in the pie. I want to know who made it, where they got the recipe and was there some special ingredient that makes it so delicious. Perhaps it’s the fact that I come from a long line of Irish yappers. Keeping our mouths shut isn’t something the women in my family believe in or aspire to; we have other talents.

In most bakeries, each pie has a little label or sign on it to tell you what's in it. That’s where my willpower fails me. Chocolate cream, blueberry, mincemeat all seem like tiny signals from the universe that say, "This is a great pie. You should get this pie so you can share it; hurry, put the coffee on!" Honestly, I don't understand why there hasn't been a national effort to get more pie into, well, our pieholes. Oh, and just saying, isn’t piehole the best word ever? It’s not often I get to use a compound word that ends in “hole” in this column (but that doesn’t mean I haven’t thought of a few.)

Photo courtesy of #PieholeWhiskey

As I've been recovering from back surgery, I've also been watching my weight. Because, well, there was a lot of time flat on my back, and so many of my sweet friends brought delicious meals to help me out. Do the math. Less activity plus more snacks works out to several pounds I do not need. So, sure, I cut back on a few foods, but I didn't forget who I am. Salads do not comfort me. Baby carrots with hummus don’t heal my bruised soul, or my cracked back after a tough day. Do you know what does? Pie and friends. Oh, and some ice cream. I don't make the rules, but you need ice cream with pie; it's practically required. The friend part should be as well. Because in between bites of strawberry rhubarb, banana cream, or pumpkin, you might hear some great stories. You might learn something you can't when you're home alone, hiding behind a keyboard or a pen, too afraid to let people know who you are. Why do some of us choose to spread criticism with awkward scribbles and no ownership? How is being nameless and faceless more fun than having pie and an honest conversation?

The signs at the bakery tell us what’s in a pie, but we all have words, names, life stories, and personal beliefs that tell others who we are and what we believe. Without all that, well, you're likely to remain invisible and unheard; you really won't matter much if you're not putting yourself out there, warts and all. Of course, you do you, but I'm calling some friends to hang out. Now, where is that pie I picked up, it's apple, and it's calling my name.