Tag: recipe

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.)

TuesDATE

by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

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

Him: Wanna get some food?

Me:  Sure.  There’s lots of restaurants around here.  What are you in the mood for?

Him:  I don’t care.  You pick.

Me:  Hm…  there’s high end Mexican up the street at Mesa Coyoacan .

Him:  You should know better than to ask someone for Mexican food on a gay date.

Me:  Why?  Oh.  EW.

Him:  But yeah, I don’t care…

Me:  There’s a seafood restaurant called Sel De Mer….

Him: Ew.  NO.  I never trust them to have fresh ingredients.  Gross.

Me:  That’s kind of their thing.  The menu is mostly specials that they bought at the fish market that day.

Him:  I’m not sure if I trust that.  Try again.

Me:  There’s a French place called Fanny.  It’s cash only.

Him:  I never carry cash. (gives me a knowing glance, as if I’m supposed to know what that means)

Me:  Well, I would buy dinner, but I am poor.

Him:  All that pie.

Me: Huh?

Him:  You’re spending too much money on pie.  Not enough on your living expenses.

Me:  Hold up… Financial advice??  That’s SECOND date material, Mister.

Him: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.  I don’t get it.

Me:  There’s an Asian fusion place up the street called Sakura.

Him:  Yeah.  I’ve read  your blog.  We get it.  You like ‘Asian food‘.  (long pause where I don’t laugh)

Me:  I’m not that hungry, actually.

Him:  Wanna make out?

Me:  No.

Enjoy the TuesDATE, Jerks!

photo by Erwin Caluya

Cupid Arrives

by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

What’s wrong with you?

Put your tongue back in your mouth.  That’s just Robbie Fowler.

Hm?  What?  He’s gorgeous?

I’ll let him know you said so.  Now focus:

So, first of all – congrats are in order.  Robbie’s boyfriend James proposed to him.   They’re getting married!

But, they’re getting married in New York, since that’s where they solidified their love.  Which means they’re waiting for it to be legal.  But they’re engaged!

They will be married, some day.  Soon as you kind straight folk start voting the right way.

Listen up:

Robbie is a popular New York actor.  He does theater and television.  Which is not to say you shouldn’t cast him in your movie.  You totally should.  He photographs well.

Robbie wanted to make a red berry pie, for Valentine’s day.  He brought over raspberries, strawberries and blackberries.   Good call, Fowler!  It made a kick ass pie.  We didn’t put very much sugar in it, because we wanted it to taste sharp and tart.  We spiked the crust with a little powdered ginger.

I sat down with Fowler to chat while the pie was baking:

PF: What do you do for a living?

RF:  I act…  swiffer my apartment…  take care of my puppy….

I’m an uncle…  for a living…

PF: How’s being engaged?

RF: We both have rings and we walk around a little taller, I guess? We would like to get married in our home state, so we’ll wait…  It affects me a lot.

PF:  How did you learn how to bake pie?

RF:  I learned from my grandmother.  Ernestine Nowlan.  My mother’s mother.  She was hilarious.  Taught me how to make a pie crust.  She was an actress when she was younger and she played Polly Darton in a Kansas musical review.  She was 75 or 76 when I was born.  They would take me to get haircuts – my grandparents.  And to theater camp.

PF:  Can you talk about the pie you selected?

RF:  Sweet, messy, juicy – just like Valentine’s Day.

PF:  Tell me an odd story about auditioning?

RF:  I went in for a show, right after moving here.  The audition was run by a reputable company – I sang my face off – belted those high B (flats).  The choreographer was yelling sass at us the whole time.  I went home, felt good about it, logged onto the Facebook, and I get a message from the director.

He found me, but my info is not at all on my resume.  He didn’t care to talk about my audition at all – he was just like ‘oh, what were those tattoos?’

Finally I had to ask – hey, did I make the cast of the show?

PF:  DID you?

RF: Oh.  Yeah, I did.  It was a lot of fun.

PF:  Do you have any advice for other young actors?

RF:  Take it as it comes.  If you need to take a break, do it.  Take care of yourself before you take care of your career.  You have to stay sane.  If you need to take a pottery class take a fucking pottery class.  Bake a pie.

I couldn’t have said it better myself.   Thanks, Fowler.

Guys, I hope you’re happy this Valentines day.  Whether you’re together or alone, I hope you’re having fun.

I love you.  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!