It seems that meeting people in this “City of Good Neighbors” is as easy as pie.
I’ve never been a very domestic person, which is perhaps both a blessing and a curse. However, I’m not one to turn down a challenge, so when someone dared me to bake a pie from scratch, I covered my kitchen with flour.
Baking pies has always had a vintage appeal to me. This might be because, until recently, I didn’t realize that people have actually made them since the 1950’s. With all the technoogical advances made since that decade, I thought they appeared out of thin air now, like Chinese food and plastic. In my recent domestic endeavor, I’ve discovered that blackberry pies aren’t a naturally occurring element, and ‘scratch’ actually consists of flour and shortening. I really do learn something new everyday. Of course, in this attempt to broaden my horizons, I managed to waste a package of sugar and set off my smoke alarm. Luckily, the fire department likes the taste of burnt crust.
Amidst the chaos, I found a strange peace in pies. Combining a few simple ingredients in just the right way can lead to a whole new product, and baking seems like a mysterious form of antiquated alchemy to me in this modern age. It’s perhaps too amazing to me that I managed to make a blackberry pie, and after all the trials and tribulations, I admired the finished product as it cooled on my kitchen table.
It was then that I realized I could not eat an entire pie by myself.
Therefore, in keeping with the vintage tradition, I decided to welcome my new neighbor to the area by way of baked goods. Resisting the urge to don an A-line dress and pearls, I mosied over next door, holding my pie together and beaming like a guilty child.
Roii, from Israel, answered the door with a surprised smile, which is better than I could have hoped for. He immediately welcomed me in, gave me a chair and went to retrieve some forks and knives. We sat talking about foreign countries, food and, well, Buffalo, mostly. He told me how much he loves the city, I agreed excitedly, and we were instantly bonded. It seems that sometimes all it takes to make a friend in this town is a love of Buffalo itself. I felt that all I could give to show my friendliness in return was an amateur pie, so I bashfully handed it to him. Truly a good neighbor, he immediately ate a piece right in front of me, and didn’t even cringe at all.
I am often overwhelmed by the interesting neighbors I have yet to meet. My new plan is to use this new hobby as a means to discover more about Buffalo, spreading imperfect baked goods like a soapbox speech about this incredible city. If anyone has any dessert requests, please let me know and I’d be happy to oblige. That’s either a promise or a threat, depending on how crispy you like your pies.
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