Deep Dish Archive


Floating on the River

Life, Love, Family

Floating on the River

It’s been a time of transitions.  My partner’s mother passed away.  My niece got engaged.  I’m between contracts for work.  We’re visiting family in another state.  The flow continues.

It’s time to be quiet, perhaps drifting on a raft down a wide river, letting the eddies take us into their swirls, releasing us gently back into the largesse of the river.

What does this have to pie?  Temporarily, nothing.  Temporarily, it’s good to be at rest, to breathe the smell of the summer, of the water we’re upon, to listen to the gurgles of the water and the calls of the birds.  To listen to our hearts.

Then we’ll celebrate the new places we find ourselves:  down river, further along in our lives.  We’ll get grounded again and celebrate with summer pies:  fresh fruit spilling out, bubbling through the lattice and cascading over the sides of the crust onto the baking pan.  Ummm, the best, those little puddles of sweetness.

What will your pie celebrate?  And what kind will you make?  I’ll be making peach, fresh peach, with peaches from a friend’s tree or the grower’s market.  With just a touch of almond and a lattice crust.  And I’ll be celebrating another summer of love, work, family, friends and life.  You?


Who's Sewing those Aprons?!

Meet our Microentrepreneur

Duka Subedi

Our Pie Pals Seamstress:  Duka’s Story

(in Duka’s own words)

I am Duka Subedi.  I was born in Bhutan, the country between India and China. I was evicted from my country when I was seven years old.  I lived in a Bhutanese refugee camp in eastern Nepal from 1992 to 2008 with my parents, two brothers and a sister.

Refugee life is very hard life.  Many times we did not have enough food to eat, no good water to drink, not enough clothes, no proper medical care; problems in all sectors. It was scary place to live for women and young girls. I studied in the refugee camp and then went to college in Nepal.

In May, 2007 I married Hari Subedi. He is a nice person and has helped me in all of my steps of my life. I love him so much. We came to USA in August, 2008, through IOM (International Organization for Migration) and started living in Albuquerque, New Mexico. At the beginning life was very difficult and very challenging.  We faced many problems but we are working hard and try to improve our life.

In May 2009, my son, Aarpan, was born. He is very nice and is the source of thinking I have to work hard for my baby and make his better life.

I have learned to make different things like aprons, cushions, tote-bags, beading, etc. I learned at the New Mexico Women's Foundation, Sew Rights and other community work places.

Now I started making some money and helping my husband to run my family. I still have lot of problems like languages.  I want to go back to school and learn some things but I don't have another source of income. I am hopeful and hard working, thinking that one day I will reach my goal.

Thank you for supporting my efforts by buying an apron.  I hope you enjoy it.

Duka Subedi


Pie Heaven?

So many pies.

National Pie Championships 2012

The ballroom opened before us under an arch of red, white and blue balloons:  cool and dark, quiet, looming large, with pistachio green walls.  This was the national pie baking championship? 

Ah!  My eyes adjusted to the light and there in front of us was a long, very long table draped in white, crowned with 425 pies.  Different  pies.  My mind started to warp.  Yes, I’d arrived in pie heaven.  These were the commercially produced pies, where duplicate pies were being judged in the ballroom next door, while the amateurs prepared for their contest.

And sure enough, there around the perimeter of the room were gleaming stainless steel ovens, with tables and bowls and rolling pins and bakers!  Bakers with red hats, bakers with blue aprons, bakers with mixers – mixers they’d traveled with from home – and favorite pie pans.  Dan brought his favorite cast iron pie skillet to bake in, all the way from Flint, Michigan.

Then I knew it was going to be good.  These are pie people, baking their hearts out.  Their stories are the best.  I’ll be reporting on them in the next few weeks, complete with pictures. 

For now, let me assure you that these are characters of the first order.  And they are here to compete!  They work on their recipes, tossing out whole pies that “aren’t good enough,” polishing their “product” until it’s ready to enter here.  They all want to win.  And yet, there’s a sense of community and camaraderie that is palpable.

Pie.  It brings us together.


Ownership vs. Sharing of Recipes

Pie Pals Share Theirs

Your Pie Pal, Rebecca Dakota

How do you feel about sharing your best pie recipe?  Will you ever share it?  With whom,  under what circumstances?

Now I've heard, though I can't say I've had direct experience with this, that people in the South are happy to share their recipes.  It's just that they leave out one of the key ingredients.  Any truth to this?

I'll give my recipes away (as I do on Pie Pals) anyone who wants to make good pie, with hopes that they'll enjoy the recipes and quite possibly improve upon them.  After all, most of my recipes started out from a recipe book and then became my own.  No sense in holding back on anything when there's so much good to be shared.

And, that being said, I'm still going to ask for 99 cents for my "best" recipes – the "best of show" ones from the State Fair.  Wonder why?  Because I want to be the pie-wonder broker: connecting you with each other and all that's wonderful about pie.   It's so much more fun to do this than to sit in a corporate office or even to be a consultant for non-profit organizations.  And this Web site does cost a bit to run. 

So let's share and be generous with each other.  The more good pie, the better.

Yours in flakiness,

Rebecca, Your Pie Pal


Are you a pie snob?

I’ve been accused and found guilty:  I am a pie snob.

I adore pie, pie making, pie eating, every little flaky delicate crumb of the crust and luscious drop of filling.  I’ve been known to lick my plate, to shower the baker with kudos, to plead for more.

But pie at a restaurant?  I won’t waste the calories on it.  I can’t stand the heavy crust:  thick, sweet, solid. 

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