Pie Bomb

I have been working on my pie-making the last few days. The more pies I made, the more I am convinced that they are nothing but delivery devices for sugar and fat. Take pumpkin pie for example, we take the sweetest of fruits and add to it sugar and cream, just enough eggs to hold it together and spices to make it palatable. We then put this filling (so appropriately named) into a shell (also appropriately named, with a sense of danger), which is simply sugar and fat held together by just enough flour. Pumpkin pie is therefore nothing but a soft state of sugar and fat contained by a hard state of sugar and fat. Savoury pie delivers less sugar but plenty of fat and salt. The greatest of them all is no doubt the English meat pies. I remember stopping by some town at mid-afternoon in the middle of England and the only food I could purchase were cold meat pies from the butcher shop. It was quite an impressive thing, that pie: minced pork glued to the shell with an abundance of lard. Only a butcher can make such a pie because no one else has that much lard on hand. Pies would be considered life giving five thousand years ago when fat and sugar were the most rare of nutrition. One could put pie into a strong box to be used in famine. If I had a time machine, I would just bring pie to the past. I would become the richest man on earth, and worship for being the greatest life-safer. Sadly, living in today’s world, I may be considered a suicide for consuming pies, and certainly someone with morbid thoughts for reminiscing about English meat pies. I need a straitjacket and a padded room.