pie friends, I can’t apologize enough for my long radio silence… but things just got super busy and super real. My time at Union Kitchen started on the 1st of September and before I knew it the whole month had passed.
The first week I got my shit together, became a member (executive thankyouverymuch) at costco, bought some really large 18 quart containers, did a lot of math and went on a butter, flour and sugar buying spree. Then I got to work. By the end of the week I had 30 apple pies and 30 plum ginger tarts to pedal on the side of the Maryland road. By Sunday I had sold all but three and was feeling pretty pleased with myself. Exhausted but very pleased. Having the first week out of the way without any major or debilitating disasters was stellar and I had felt that I had really found a rhythm. I also decided that absolutely, definitely, without question 60 pies was my max.
Week two was much of the same. Lots of crust making, rolling and crimping. I peeled and sliced 60 pounds of apples along to the ever soothing voice of Ira Glass, and was pleased as punch to be able to bake, at the very least 16 pies at a time. I was surprised to discover just how much had subconsciously sunk in over the past two years of baking with other professionals as it truly helped me navigate my way around the communal kitchen. Somehow, I was the real deal.
Week three, I found myself in one of my favorite cities baking 80 teeny tiny pies for my darling friends Kates and Travis. It was spectacular being successful for my first wedding, and I was just so pleased to be such a fun part of the wedding!
Week four was a little wonky due to a sweet potato disaster that I narrowly avoided. Let’s just say there might have been tears. Tears over sweet potatoes (I KNOW) don’t scoff, it happens. But miraculously my sweet potato pie, despite those terrible, horrible (I hate them so much) potatoes every intention, tasted just like it was supposed to and Aaron with his super pie selling skills sold all but a few. I ended the weekend with a special 15 pie order for PBS and thought to myself… 80 pies is definitely my max.
All of a sudden it’s week five and despite all odds I’ve managed to stay awake while biking and slowly and surely have started a little business. I’m baking for two markets this week, and surely 200 teeny pies and 20 big pies is my max. Somehow, the slow trajectory toward selling pie as a lady pie baker was jettisoned into something much larger than anticipated, but I’m fairly confident that I can keep up. The best part is, despite being deliriously exhausted most of the time I’m also deliriously happy. I’m making a shit ton of pie and it’s really real.
I can only imagine that the next week and the week following and the one after that will also hold unimaginable highs and lows, and I’m excited to have started this incredible journey toward something. pie love.
(wedding pies being so stinking cute!)