Bakery/Pastry

Forgive Me I Have Pie-d…

creme brulee pie freatured header

(??)????

The only equivalent comparison in life to this would be: In our last two years in New York when we were practically cast out of Manhattan by elitism (FINE, high rents) and moved to… Jersey City where there was a most pathetic looking, hicks-Ahoy karaoke bar right around the block. With more conviction than I withheld on my wedding day I said to Jason, “IF we EVER raised even the SLIGHTEST idea of walking into this place, it is THE moment that we’ve been “Jersified” and must pack up and move back in the city immediately!” We survived Jersey and never did walk into that karaoke bar. But instead THIS happened here. My cue that says I have been in YET another dump for far too long that – I – made – a – PIE!!!

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Rise baby Rise!

Cuz I don’t brown up nice in the oven.  NO!  I meant I can’t bake!  I’m paralyzed in the field of baking because I’m innately handicapped in following instructions.  But I, too am a mere mortal who’s powerless against the calling of fresh-out-of-the-oven pastries.  And I have a thing for biscuits.

For one, it is one of the few pastries that doesn’t need egg (ok, I LOVE eggs but can’t have them.  That’s a Ginormica sob story for another time).  And plus, they’re just endlessly versatile.  They are the personal escorts,  the Emporors Club of the pastry world.  They will play any role you want them to play for the day, breakfast, lunch, dinner or dessert!  Fantastic!  If one could just be a gentleman, invest in a little courtship beforehand to get to know the biscuits well, to help her reach you-know-what.   What?

It’s the RISE, baby!!!

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