I realize this is old news, but yesterday was Pi Day. Perhaps you were able to scarf down your pie of choice to celebrate, I was not.Believe me, I was more than willing to devour an entire pie to make up for the hamantaschen debacle earlier in the week. After that Purim party pooper, I decided March 14th would absolutely have to include a huge slab of pie.
I should not have been surprised when my Pi Day plans crumbled like poorly constructed pastry.
The night before, which happened to be Friday the 13th, I had florid dreams about baking blueberry muffins in a kosher kitchen and getting chastised by Hasidim for my efforts. I woke up feeling disoriented and disgruntled, as well as exhausted. I woke up wanting blueberry pie with a side of Lekvar hamantaschen.
Since I
was scheduled for a day in New York City, I thought this would be easy enough to accomplish. How hard could it be to find hamantaschen? New York is where, as Lenny Bruce of blessed memory once observed, "everyone is Jewish, even the goyim." I could probably find prune and poppy selections at good old Zaro's. As for blueberry pie, practically a given, given the right coffee shop. Alas, the day ended without either form of celebratory baked good. Looks like I'll have to wait a year for a fresh crop of hamantaschen. And although I'm trying to resist spiritualizing this entire experience, I thank God that blueberries will be in season sooner rather later.
