Pie-a-Day #4: Leave Me The F*#k Alone Pie

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This Pie-a-Day post comes to us from writer Kirk Pynchon, of the blog I Wish I Liked Flan.

Leave Me The F*#k Alone
Okay, here’s the deal. Back in January an old college friend of mine, Gini Martinez, made me an organic dark chocolate/peanut butter pie with a cookie crust. Did she do this because she likes me? No. Did she do this because I’m a nice person? No. Did she do this because I said she had to if the Cleveland Cavaliers beat the Los Angeles Lakers in Los Angeles?

Absolutely damn right.

Gini is a HUGE Lakers fan and this loss to the Cavaliers was devastating, but a deal’s a deal and she had to comply. Now Gini didn’t have to, but she took this task very seriously. She could have made a substandard organic dark chocolate/peanut butter pie. She could have even bought a dark chocolate/peanut butter pie and passed it off as her own. But she didn’t.

Instead, Gini made what I like to call a “Leave Me The F*#k Alone” pie.  That means it was so good that you have no choice but to grab a fork, grab the pie, run into another room and eat it all by yourself. You don’t need anyone bothering you or distracting you from the pie. That’s how tasty this freakin’ organic dark chocolate/peanut butter pie with the cookie crust was.

Dark Chocolate, creamy peanut butter all on top off a chocolate cookie crust. Come on! That’s the ultimate trifecta right there. There’s nothing better than those three ingredients melded together in a sweet orgasmic harmony. That’s like forming an All Star R&B trio consisting of Prince, D’angelo and Stevie Wonder, letting them jam for three hours…and then eating an organic dark chocolate/peanut butter pie with a cookie crust.

I ate that whole pie in 3 nights (that’s a lie – 2 nights). I honestly considered having sex with it, then only reconsidered when I realized that if I did, then I couldn’t eat it.

Did I share the pie with my wife? No. She’s not a big peanut butter fan so I didn’t even let her taste it. I barely let her smell it.  Did I share the pie with my kids? No. They wouldn’t appreciate it on the same level as me. It was too good to waste on them.  Did I share it with my writing partner when he came over to work? No. I didn’t even tell him about it. The hell with him.

This is why I call it “Leave Me The F*#k Alone” pie. You ruin relationships because of it and eventually you end up all alone with an empty plate and a dirty fork.

Christ, I miss that pie.