Tag: Crust

DOUBLE FEATURE!! Blueberry Double Crust Pie and Feta Quiche!!

by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

I think we’re getting Blueberries from Southern California.

There are all these fruit carts in the city – just out on the sidewalks.  You can almost always find seasonal vegetables and fruits there.  My favorite time of the year is in the summer, where you can get loads of fresh berries – strawberries, blueberries and blackberries for super cheap.  They’re so ripe and fresh and they’re so abundant that they practically give them away.

But something strange happened recently.  The price of fresh berries went down.  At the end of winter.  I was skeptical, but I bought a pint.  They were fresh and delicious.

Most of the time I’m pretty conscientious about eating local grown whole foods.  But it’s the end of winter, and I’m fatigued and under sunned.  FRESH BLUEBERRIES, y’all!!!

I coudn’t help myself.  I made a Double Crust Blueberry Pie, plus a Feta, Red Pepper, Mushroom, and French Tarragon Quiche.

I put an egg wash on the pie.  Just whipped up some egg whites and rubbed it on the top crust.  Sprinkle it with cinnamon sugar, and It will make a very glossy, professional looking crust.  Wash your hands first, dummy.

The quiche came out great too.

Here’s a recipe for the Blueberry Pie Filling:

Take 3 pints of blueberries and put them in a large mixing bowl.

Add 3 tablespoons of granulated sugar.

Add 3 tablespoons of cornstarch

Zest one lemon over the bowl

Mix.

Put the berries inside the pie shell and cover with the top crust.  (egg wash optoional – WASH YOUR HANDS, DUMMY)

Bake at 425 for 15 min.  Turn the heat down to 350 and bake for another 35-45 min.  Use your head.  You’ll be able to see and smell when it’s done.

Let it cool for two hours and then refrigerate over night.  The cornstarch will firm up the runny berry juice.

What’s that?  How do you make the crust?  Funny you should ask.  I’ll be offering classes in that very thing, shortly.

You’ll be able to come bake with me at different locations around New York City.  Sorry to be mysterious, but if you’re really dying for a lesson, I offer private baking sessions too.  Email me at piefolk@gmail.com

Enjoy the Pies, Jerks.

People Send Me Stuff

by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

Hunter Kazorowski made this needlepoint and sent me a photo online.

People send me weird stuff online now.  Some of it makes sense, given that this is a pithy gay pie blog.  Some of it doesn’t.

But I love my readers, and you guys can continue to send me stuff.  Just not creepy stuff, okay, guys?  Seriously.  No photos of poop.  Unless, you know, it’s a miracle dump and the Virgin has appeared in it.  Then, okay.

No, wait.  Not even then. No poop.  I want zero pictures of poop.

Oh poop.  What was I talking about?

See?  This is fine.  Perfectly handsome young guy sent me a nice shot of his lean body.  It was coupled with these pies he made:

What a nice guy.  He wants to come bake with me.  Maybe I’ll let him…  He’s being pretty nice so far.  We’ll see…

I love the freedom of the internet.  I love how people are getting less afraid to live their lives openly.

I love that there’s something about my site that stirs people to send things to me.  I feel lucky.  I feel grateful.

Here’s a letter from  a guy in Montreal:

This is an apple pie,as denoted by the apple decoration.
I picked the apples myself, they are cortlands.
I have a tendency to put a blend of ginger, cardamom, cloves, and cinnamon into an apple pie, a balance that does not overwhelm the apple taste is essential.
The crust also has some old cheddar in it.
It was very good, though the application of egg wash was not very uniform.
I would bake a pie with you sometime if you would like, sometime when I am in New York.
I live in Montreal, ever been?

This be me last time I was in New York.
I like your site, very entertaining.
Tell Kazu we have a very good izakaya bearing his name in the city, people are lined up out the door all the time.
Blake

Did you hear that, Little Brother?  Blake (pictured above) says there’s a good izakaya in Montreal.

Aren’t my fellow gays sweet?

This guy is pretty beautiful, right?  He lives a few states away but he wants to come bake with me this summer at some point.  Okay, I said.  Then I said, are you over 18?  Then he said, 22.  Then I said, bring ID.  We can’t have the neighbors talking, after all…

Oh yeah:  remember that artist, Lex Millena?  He finished the watercolor he was making for me.  It’s beautiful.  Lex is beautiful.

Thanks Lex.  Thanks, everyone.  You guys are pretty awesome. Jerks.


The Last Of It.

by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

That’s the last of it, probably, right?

Winter’s loosening it’s grip.

It’s not over, but you can feel it in the air.  It’s almost over.

There’s still a chill, here, in my kitchen.  Winter’s hooks are still right outside the window.   I haven’t yet taken my shoes off from outside, for fear my feet would suffer.  They take much longer to warm up, now that I’m older.

I’ve been thinking about the internet a lot lately.  I’ve had some real, vitriolic haters emerge, lately.  Don’t get me wrong — there’s been much much more support and kindness, but a few nasty jerks have reared their heads, too.  I’ve gained a lot a friends and lost a few.

That’s to be expected, I guess.  But I’ve been thinking about the internet.  Guys.  What if we’re on the verge of something great here?  What if we’re on the precipice of a huge leap forward for humankind?  Hear me out on this:

What if humanity is about to move to a more golden age?  Look! Dictatorships are toppling across the Middle East.   Listen – the democratic murmurs arise from a new, powerful middle class in China.  Feel – the stirrings of a new type of human experience – wait, that was just too much kimchee at dinner. But you understand what I’m driving at.

The internet is in its infancy, still.  It’s helping to trigger revolutions, not just political ones, but economic and social ones.  Look.  I’m a grown man simultaneously broadcasting my thoughts on humanity, and pictures of pie, my Japanese little brother, and my butt crack.  What I’m clearly trying to say is: Humanity We’ve Arrived.

We’re at that golden age we always dreamed of.  All we need is a few more dictators to fall, a few more people to open their hearts, and a few more women elected in the senate.  Seriously.  They’re under represented.  Gays too.  Get on board gays, ladies, and gay ladies.

Yes, I’m telling Ellen to run for office.

Pretty soon it won’t be fashionable to hate things online.  Pretty soon the world will move beyond that. Toward kindness.

I wonder where that will leave us?  What happens when we, as humans, leap forward? I wonder what the haters will do, when it’s not fun and funny to snark it up and look for ways to tear down people they’re jealous of online?

No, fag, I’m not talking about the singularity.  Unless, maybe I am?  I’m not.

No, wait.  I am:

I always thought of the internet as a human scream – the loudest ever heard.

What if that scream is just a symptom of its infancy?

What if it mellows out into a deep hum?  What if we take that hum and build off it, until it rises.

Mighty and mature.

A heavenly chorus of voices.  All singing at once.  What if we become heaven?  What if we all become the Horizon?

What if someday we’re so advanced, there’s no need for someone to come and tell us:  Enjoy the pie, Jerks?

People Send Me Stuff

by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized


From time to time people send me stuff on the internet.   Usually it’s pies, or photographs of themselves naked, or not naked.  Or all of the above.  I think I scratch some sort of voyeuristic itch, maybe, for people – and they want to share in that feeling.  To be seen.  To bear witness to one another.  Then again.  Maybe people are just pervy.

That I can also live with.

Sometimes, people send me other stuff.  Usually I don’t post it if it isn’t pie related or naked.  Those are really my two demographics, right, guys?  I’m going to answer for you, since you’re not writing this:  YES.

This is Lex Millena

He lives in California and goes to art school.

Lex desscribes himself like this:  A Jack of all trades but master of mediocrity, he strives for the idealistic image of perfection. He is a purveyor of dreams and an information hoarder. His insatiable lust for memories results in photographs, notebooks and songs all combating a fear of a transient mind strung around by shiny things. A subtle voice with obnoxious hair with the intent of being heard without saying a word.

Like I said.  He goes to art school.

Here, I’ll prove it to you:

See?

Hm?  What’s the fucking point, PIEFOLK?  Good question.  Well.  I’ve been thinking of my ex boyfriend lately.  His name is Carter and he’s a good man.  Distracted, and wonderful, and wistful.  He’s one of those people –  you  meet him and you know he’s kind before he even opens his mouth.  He and I met 3 days after 9/11, in a Manhattan bar called Barracuda.

I’m not going to post a pic of him, because he strikes me as more private than all that, but trust me.  He looks like a honey bear.  Sitting on the shelf of a well lit sub-urban market.  Glistening with perfect honey inside.

Carter’s going through a rough time right now.

Hm?  What’s this got to do with the art school kid?  Oh.  This:

Lex, the naked guy from earlier?  He made this video.  It’s really powerful storytelling, I think.  Especially the long walk up the dark stairs, and the smelling of the shirt.

I saw this and I couldn’t help but think of Carter.  I found it incredibly moving.

Lex.  Thanks for making me cry with your art school video.  Jerk.

p.s.  Lex asked me 1)if i know Zach Woods and 2)if he’s gay

Yes.  No.


I can EXPLAIN!!!

by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

Damn that Japanese Little Brother Kazu!

He comes over every so often and gets me into the trickiest situations!  I think he’s possessed by an Ancient Demon Apple Pie Monster.  He always smells fragrant, like apples and cinnamon.  Maybe it’s his lip balm.

I promised him baked goods, but all I had in the house was stale blueberry quick bread.

I had to think fast.

You don’t want the Ancient Demon of an Apple Pie Monster to get angry.

Oh.  Sidebar:

Look.  Usually i don’t wear underwear like this, okay?  I usually have something a little less ‘Grandpa-ish’ on when I’m entertaining house guests, especially if they’re young and gay and etc.

But hey.  It was laundry day and they were running a sale at one of those dollar stores in Greenpoint, which created a perfect storm for me wearing these horrible undies.

Bread pudding is pretty simple.  You just take any stale baked good (bread, muffins, cake, whatever) and you break it up into crumbs.  Then you add a certain amount of milk, brown sugar and eggs.

I’m not going to tell you the exact proportions.  It’s really simple – just search ‘bread pudding‘ online.   Did you click the link?  Aren’t I an asshole?

So I used the blueberry quick bread and some fresh blueberries I found at the market.  I also put some dark chocolate chips inside the bread.

I had to.  I was afraid of the Ancient Demon Apple Pie Monster.

And if I ever want to be Hokage I will have to learn how to keep the Apple Pie Monster from taking over when I’m fighting for Leaf Village.

Little Brother brings out the best in me.  Or the worst?

It’s really easy for him to get me to pose for ridiculous photos.

God.  I can’t get over how saggy these underwear are.

Lordy.

What was I thinking?

Jeez.

Look at the window behind me.  You can see a reflection of my butt.  Look at how the underwear sag like an old lady’s triceps.

Oh well.  I’ll have to live with it.  Laundry doesn’t come back until tomorrow.

The bread pudding was totally great.  I ate too much of it and now I have to start going back to the gym.  Spring is here, after all, and there’s nothing like being a full grown man obsessed with his body.

I think I banished the Ancient Demon Apple Pie Monster for the time being.

In other news:  I made a new video to ask President Barack Obama to come to my house for pie.  Please Watch it!

Enjoy the Little Brother, Jerks!

TuesDATE

by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized


Sometimes people ask me on dates.  They see me on the internet.  Maybe they think I’m the answer to their life problems, or loneliness.  Invariably I prove them wrong.

Him:  Sorry.  You made me wait for longer than I thought I would have to, in that bank.

Me:  Sorry I asked you to meet me there.  I had to open up a business account.

Him: Why?

Me:  My accountant told me to.  I don’t know.  You look so cute.

Him:  Ugh.  I feel gross.  I haven’t showered and I drank last night.

Me: Did you drink a lot?

Him: Yes.  My friend talked me into staying out later than I wanted to.  I was out until 3.  I feel queasy.

Me: Didn’t you have to be at work at 8:30?  You’re hungover.

Him: No, I just didn’t sleep a lot.

Me: And you feel queasy.

Him:  Yeah.

Me: And you drank a lot.

Him: Yeah.

Me: That’s a hangover.

Him: NO.  I told you I’m NOT hungover.  I just didn’t sleep and had to go to work only a few hours after drinking a lot.

Me:  Yeah.  That’s called a hangover.

Him: You’re so judgmental.

Me:  Oh.  No.  Sorry…  I don’t mean to seem like I’m judging.  I’m not saying, “Oh, you’re hung over, you should be ashamed – how dare you show up for a date with me with a hangover.”  It’s not judging.  It’s perceiving.  I’m just labeling the condition.  More like, “Oh, that’s just a hangover.”

Him: Wow.  You’re so much fun.

Me:  Oh yes.  Nothing but.  I’m. So. Much. Fun.

(long pause)

Me: Hey. I’m cooking a whole lot of food.  Do you still want me to make you lunch?  Late lunch?

Him:  I think I already told you I feel queasy, but sure.  I’ll see what happens.

Me: I’m a good cook.  You’ll feel hungry after a minute.

Him:  Can we listen to Gaga?

Me: What?

Him: When we get to your house.  Can we listen to Gaga?

(loooooooong pause)

Me: Sure.

…

I love Gaga.

(surprise ending: I don’t love Gaga.)

Kazu’s Birthday

by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

Kazu turned 25!

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.

Uhhhh…

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….

HA.  Ah, heh…  ha.   ha.

Asshole.

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.




BD 11

by piefolk, posted in Pie, Uncategorized

Don’t touch that.  Just don’t!  Because I said so.  Now you’re rubbing your eye.  Now you’re sneezing and crying.  BECAUSE, DUMMY.  It’s not cinnamon – it’s cayenne pepper.  I told you not to touch it.  It’s going into my next set of pies.  Specifically, I’m whisking it into the flour before I cut the fat into the crust.

You can’t see it but it’s in there.  There’s cayenne pepper and cinnamon.  It’s mostly invisible – like Mary Kate Olsen.  Or Ashley.  Whichever is the one who doesn’t ever eat.

OH?  Both of them?  Really?

Do you KNOW that, or are you just spreading rumors?

Then shut up, this is my blogging time.

I was asked to another fancy party, and I’m making a pie.  What’s going on with my calendar this holiday season?  Not that I’m complaining.  It beats ringing in the new year with the Sissor Sisters at Metropolitan Bar.  No, I’m totally excited to go to the home of a well connected Asian American Broadway Legend and TV star.  Look, I’m not going to spell it out for you, mostly because I forgot to ask permission to use his name on my website.  But, piece it together, dummy.

MMMMMMMMM!  BUTTERFLIES!!!

So it’s going to be a Mexican Silk pie.  I took the traditional French Silk recipe and made some minor changes. Along with the crust, laden with cinnamon and cayenne – I’m adding Smoked Hungarian Paprika to the chocolate filling.  I want it to be smoky, chocolaty, and spicy – like a Mexican Hot Chocolate.

Once I had a ‘Mexican Hot Chocolate’ during spring break at South of the Border.  You know what?  I’m not going to tell that story right now, because I realize that I’m using the phrase euphemistically to describe a sex act with a certain equine barnyard animal.  The point is, I’ll never take mushrooms again.

Also, if you see a half human, half donkey from Mexico looking for his father – you never met me.  Got it?

There were no mushrooms in this pie, just chocolate, eggs, butter, and sugar.  Lots and lots of sugar.  And that Hungarian Paprika.  I know, it sounds weird right?  It was actually really good.  Like, so so good.  And you have to realize – there were wealthy New Yorkers there!  You can’t serve them DINER FRENCH SILK PIE!!!  You have to serve them something crazy that sounds like garbage, but is really quite elegant.  There’s no cooking in NY anymore without being an insufferable foodie.  Insufferable,I said.  INSUFFERABLE!!!!!  WELL THEN COME OUT OF THE BATHROOM AND SHUT THE SINK OFF, DUMMY.

Sheesh…   Okay.   So.  This guy on the billboard?

This is Daniel K. Isaac.

He’s a nice guy.  He’s the one that invited me to the party.

What?  Yeah I GUESS he’s good looking, if you like tall dark and super cute.

I guess so?  I never thought about it.  Okay.  Yes.  He’s handsome.  Anyway…  YES.  HE’S VERY GOOD LOOKING.  CAN I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION BACK PLEASE???  Lordy.  You’re unfocused today.

Okay so I topped the pie with whipped cream, and white/dark chocolate fragments.  It was supposed to look like confetti, for New Years.  What?  Yes, I suppose it was a little ‘on the nose.’  Thanks for pointing that out.  Jerk.

On top of the confetti, I made pie crust ‘cookies.’  They’re covered with dark and white chocolate.

What?  It’s an 11. Stop gaslighting me.

Gaslighting is a form of psychological abuse in which false information is presented to the victim with the intent of making them doubt their own memory and perception.

Oh yeah, this is Jon Norman Schneider.  I know, super cute, right?  I have to mention that he was a huge help with the pie, and designed the typography for the 11 that you were just being so snide about.  What?  I guess so…  I never thought about it.  Yeah, I guess he IS a hottie.  Pay attention.  YES.  I AGREE.  HE’S VERY GOOD LOOKING!!!  CAN WE MOVE ON???

Sheesh…  Jon is a talented actor and has ruined many shows up and down the east coast and really, all over the country.  He continues to book film and tv work.  Look for him in the upcoming Bryan Greenberg movie The Normals.  He ruins it by playing a weirdo.  (He doesn’t ruin anything – he’s great.  AND hold on to your hats, ladies – he remains unmarried)

There were a lot of unmarried men at this party.  A LOT.  Do I have to draw you a picture?

Hm… Okay…  When two men love each other very much, and have been dating for a significant amount of… never mind.  Just leave it in the same head space as the Mexican Hot Chocolate comment.

I mean.  Some of the people in this photo HAVE to be women, right?

Somewhere in there?

Right?

Okay.  This blog entry is getting out of hand.  I’m going to have to lay down the LAW with you guys AND establish some ORDER.  What?  I said I’m going to have to…  just turn the sink off and come out of the bathroom, will you?  No?  Okay, then I’m not telling you whose party it was.    No.  I’m not.  I’m ending the blog entry. Yes.  I am.

Happy New Year, jerks!

TALK ABOUT HANDSOME!