He blackmailed me on Facebook. He shamed me into making a pie for him. Plus, he re-posted my Barack Obama video a few times, so I kind of owe him. Plus, he’s kind of like my adopted Japanese little brother. I look out for him.
No I don’t.
But I would. I feed him sometimes. He likes my food.
We got a little playful this time around. Kazu has a delightfully free spirit, and it’s contagious. We got a little carried away.
I’ve never done a chocolate banana cream pie before. That makes me a dummy, because as you can imagine, it’s amazing.
Just trust me. I know this picture looks like a dump you might take after a barbecue where you had too much Keystone, pulled pork, and Mexican corn on the cob. But just trust me. This pie is, well… the shit.
I sliced the bananas really thin. I wanted the layers of hand made chocolate custard and bananas to get sort of confused with each other. Like the stagehands must feel – every night – at Spider Man Turn Off the Dark. Don’t click that link.
I told you not to. It’s a horrible website. 65. Million. Dollars. Folks.
Well like I said, things got carried away.
Yes. I know what this looks like: An Easter chocolate version of Bunnicula bit me on the face.
Yes. I know what it also looks like: I was changing a particularly messy diaper and didn’t notice the shit on my face yet.
It was around this time of the evening I decided that this blog entry was going to be full of shit jokes. What? Oh, you’re sweet. You’re welcome for all the shit jokes. It’s no less than you deserve.
Sidebar: They’ve just gotten L.A.’D
L.A.’D. L.A.’D… L – A -I – D They’ve just gotten laid!
AH – HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HA. Ah, heh… ha. ha.
Back to the pie!
I’m not going to tell you the recipe for this one. I haven’t perfected it yet. Plus, part of the fun of learning how to cook is doing your own research.
But here’s HOW I made it.
I baked the crust, duh. then i let the crust cool. Then i made some custard. Just regular vanilla custard. Except that, during the milk simmering phase of the custard I melted chocolate into the milk during the two minutes you’re supposed to simmer it. Don’t ask me how much. I don’t know.
For me, the crust is always very precisely measured, but the fillings I FREQUENTLY eyeball. I’m a renegade like that.
At heart, I’m probably more of a cook than a baker.
Kazu and i took some of our clothes off while we were baking and had fun with the camera. It was all very innocent. Except when it wasn’t.
Yes. Then we made out afterward. Do i have to draw you a picture?
Enjoy the voyeurism, jerks.