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I mentioned in my last post that there is often not enough pie to go around at the Camp. And it’s true. If I had an abundance of time and fruit trees, I’d feed pie to everyone every day. Since the sad truth is that I cannot produce pies at this rate, the distribution of available pie sometimes turns into a rather covert affair, including late night rendezvous, fork-fights, and sometimes even bribery. IMG_1151

I was lucky enough to get to stay in my friends Rachel and Vinnie’s cabin during Operation Onesimus again this year. For more explanation on what that is, you should jump back to this post from last year regarding the Onesipies. I once again faced the same challenges to pie baking, including the lack of a proper rolling pin (see above.)


I didn’t follow a recipe for either of the pies featured in this post. This first one featured a combination of delights from the local farm…blueberries, blackberries, and raspberries. (The rolling pin was from the farm too and was also a delight when mixed with sparkling water and limes, for the record.)

Can I just say that it is extremely difficult to keep pie crust from browning in a very tiny and very hot oven? And can I also say, I’m getting pretty proud of my lattice-weaving abilities. A little crooked, yes. But steadily improving.

This pie was also largely berry-based, but had a healthy helping of white peaches in it too.IMG_1212IMG_1214

I got fancy with the top crust here and grated it with a cheese grater, the way Ken taught me how to when I made his Rainier Cherry Pie.IMG_1217

This is Rick Szabo. Pie is his self-proclaimed favorite thing.


True love.

I guess the secret’s out now. Onesimus attendees, you now know something that you may have suspected and feared already…namely, that your teachers and cooks don’t go to bed early. They stay up and eat pie. Without you. Sorry about that.

(Hey, at least now you know so that next year you can try to sneak into the secret pie parties…right?!)

(Warning: the picture below may contain graphic violence.)


Suffice it to say that this pie did not survive the night.

Now, let’s turn our attention to Mr. Grated Crust. He was being enjoyed a sneaky slice at a time by various friends and relations.


Sometimes when you leave part of a pie in your cabin, you come back to find that it has greatly diminished in size. In this instance, the pie thieves left a thoughtful payment of pocket change wrapped in a paper towel, placed neatly in the then-emptier pie pan.


What kinds of things have you done to get your hands on some pie?