I’ve been off the blog for a while, because after finishing my Tula top, I was beat. Oh, yeah, I finished that sucker! And I’m struggling to take some decent photos to show you- a 90×90 queen sized top is hard to shoot.
You might have heard, at least if you are in the US, that this past Saturday was the Pi Day of the Century. 3/14/15. To take it further, the exact moment of 9:26am and 53 seconds on March 14, 2015 is the longest date representation of the mathematical abstract Pi this century. At least, if you record dates the American way… Pi Day is always a fabulous reason to eat pie- but the Pi Day of the Century calls for more than just a pie. So we invited some equally geeky friends over and we ate all the pies.
And I do mean all of them.
To start, we had shepherd’s pie, quiche, and PI-zza. Rich made the shepherd’s pie from scratch. I married well. The quiche and pizza came from Costco- and we personalized the pizza with some extra pizza sauce.
Of course, we couldn’t stop there. Savory pies are great, but we needed sweet ones as well.
My mom contributed…
…her amazing chocolate cream pie- a Thanksgiving tradition in our family since I learned about the pie as a grade schooler.
Rich made a meta-pie.
He started with a chocolate chip cookie dough crust, and filled it with ice cream. But that wasn’t all. The ice cream was Lazy Sunday by Ben & Jerry’s– ice cream that contains pieces of cake, and frosting. So, it was a cookie-cake-ice cream-pie.
I even baked. This is a very big deal. I am afraid of my kitchen*, and truly hate preparing food. Eating it? Whole ‘nother story.
I made butterscotch whoopee pies. I found a recipe online that was easy enough even for me… These were delicious, but very very very sweet. I think eating one all by yourself would give you insta-diabetes.
Thank goodness this day only comes around once a century, because we might not survive another one!
*I have a whole huge list of kitchen mishaps that have contributed to this actual fear, including second degree burns from ramen noodles, a minor explosion trying to light a pilot light- when my hands were still in the stove, and a stove with electric burners that ended up having an exposed element and dramatically exploding our first day in a new apt when a pot boiled over. Plus, I just HATE cooking.