Bacon Pie
Page 25
We shall wait a few years for their offspring to populate our beloved planet.
Let’s jump to another piece of information: Mr. Barnabas Lao confided a secret to me. No, not quite. I eavesdropped on a conversation between him and the object of his affection. It was an accident similar to the punch in the nose that kicked off Kiev’s relationship. Let me paint a picture for you: Mr. Barnabas Lao and Miss Sophie Mattox together, smiling and hugging, as if celebrating something. “I’ve made it into All-State orchestra,” he said to her. She jumped and kissed his face. “That’s nice, right?” she asked. His expression turned into a mix of happiness and horror, finally settling on resignation. “It’s huge,” he replied, and she nodded in agreement, which allowed the make out session to continue. Needless to say, I turned around from their PDA.
“What about you, Cole?” You may wonder. Believe it or not, Miss Vienna Jimenez and your humble server are still together. The biggest obstacle has been the language since she insists I learn Spanish. “It’s the language of love and could open up to more opportunities for us,” she keeps saying. I wonder if that will get me a job in Mexico or Spain. My vast Spanish vocabulary now includes, “Te amo and comida,” which translates to, “I love you and food.” I like how that sounds because it’s a combination of the two things I cherish the most right now—Miss Vienna Jimenez and food.
Speaking of the love of my life, food, I shall bake a diminutive nostalgic tribute for all to share—a tribute to the swine festival that changed our lives. For that effect, I’m in the process of baking a bacon apple pie in my house now, following a recipe I found on the electronic cloud.
The instructions say, “Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.” It does not clarify if this should be Fahrenheit or Celsius, thus I set the temperature to 225 to avoid burning my creation.
The next section reads, “Fit the piecrust into a pie plate, and fold the edges under.” This involves measuring, which is not quite my forte, but I manage to shove the piecrust into the pie plate. Edge folding requires patience I do not own, so I skip that step.
“Stir together brown sugar and the other ingredients.” Stirring is my specialty.
“Arrange apple slices in prepared crust.” This step is confusing because the previous one said to stir together the other ingredients, which included five whole apples. I ignore this step.
“Arrange bacon slices in a lattice design over filling. Press gently and seal the piecrust.” The meaning of lattice escapes me. I add bacon and close the pie.
“Cover pie with aluminum foil and bake for one hour. Remove foil and bake again for forty more minutes or until the crust is golden brown and the bacon is crisp.” Or until your humble server goes crazy with this many mini-steps.
Do you think you can wait one hour and forty minutes, plus whatever more time the pie takes to cool off? I’m sorry to say, but that and the confusing instructions are too much to handle for Mr. Cole Novotny, your humble server.
I do encourage you to bake your own creation.
Enjoy your bacon pie!
The End
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