Thursday, March 10, 2005

This is a new pie, a different pie. It is filled with strange exotic spices from strange exotic lands. It is the spinach pie.

"Please," it says in its breathy accent. "Spanakopita."

It's not like any pie you've ever met before. Its crust is lighter and flakier, its filling is richer and lightly seasoned. It smokes foreign cigarettes an talks about its homeland and its baked cousins in distant lands: the cheese pie, the walnut cookie, the fried bean mush. You tell it about the mysterious sponge cakes an pizza bagels made by your own countrymen an it pretends to pay attention.

The pie becomes distant and aloof. It starts makin fun a your low-class Crisco-based friends. You try to get to know it better by learnin Greek an rollin phyllo dough but it is all in vain. "You will never understand my people," sighs the spinach pie. "Go back to your lemon meringue and your chocolate custard."

So now you're sittin there with your broken heart an your empty stomach an you're wonderin what went wrong. Was it was you? Was it the pie? Were you just too different? Was it never meant to be? What are you, crazy? It's just a piece a pie! Eat it an have some dessert, they got good ice cream here.


posted by fafnir at 1:19 AM



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