My Life as a Pie

I love to cook. I love the idea of taking a few simple ingredients and turning them into something magnificent. I don't know anything much more satisfying than watching others enjoy my food. It's as if the process of cooking is the foreplay and the meal itself is the orgasm. It's as close to an orgy as I'll ever get.

I fell into a conversation about pie the other day. It is definitely one of my favorite desserts. In its simplicity, it is delectable. It's also something that I enjoy making at least as much as, if not more than, eating. Many think that making pie is complicated, if not impossible. Really, once you learn how, it's one of the easier desserts to make, and one with a whole lot of Wow Factor. It is crunchy, flaky crust and gooey fruit and sweet and a little salty and... do we really need the scoop of vanilla bean? Yes, yes... such is Hedonism. *thud*

A girl came up to me in a bar and said she wanted to be my apple pie. I wish I'd said something cool, but I was stunned.
~Jason Biggs

Let's set the fork aside for just a minute. The pie conversation got me thinking about the things I treasure in my life, about the things that make my world, my existence, something extraordinary. It all comes back to simple ingredients. I don't do fancy, and I don't need fancy. The music I like is uncomplicated. My clothing is unpretentious (there's a good selling point for a clothing manufacturer). The relationships I choose are comfortable - I like intimacy without it being esoteric. In my house, no one is required to park their shoes at the door and you're always welcome to flop anywhere you care to. Long ago I had a friend who would come to visit, and without fail, she would fall asleep on the sofa. I teased her about it once, citing that perhaps I'm boring company. She apologized, explaining that she just felt so relaxed whenever she was at my house. It's one of the best compliments I've ever received.

My life as a pie. For all my ineffable greatness (insert polite cough here) and convoluted notions, I'm made of some fairly simple ingredients: Big Love, Overt Humor, a Modicum of Curiosity, and just a Soupçon of Intelligence. I'd like to think that, as my ashes are scattered to the wind, someone will say, "She was so easy to be around. Easy as pie."

But I, when I undress me
Each night upon my knees
Will ask the Lord to bless me,
With apple pie and cheese
~Eugene Field