You Heard It Here
Our back door at PJP is a super annoying door - in that it doesn’t have any mechanism to prop it open when taking out the trash. I know that sounds like a lame issue to take fault with, but when you are used to a backdoor with a little mechanism that holds the door open at Nifong and then you go to West and promptly lock yourself out a few times in the first week, it’s outrageous in comparison. So our solution for the past 14 months has been a large and super heavy rock. It was outside our backdoor and it quickly became the solution to hold the door open when hauling out trash. So imagine my alarm today when Jason called me this morning and said our rock was missing. WHAT. He even walked around the grassy area behind the building looking for the rock, searching down to First Watch and back. NOTHING. Who steals a rock? Even if someone wanted to take the rock for themselves or borrow the rock, it would be heavy to carry. And even if it were very windy, the rock was too big to move. It’s a mystery. And now we are just going to be locking ourselves out consistently and the moral of this story is a) rent a space with a thing that keeps the door open, and/or b) store your door propping rock inside at night. You heard it here first.
Here’s a few other interesting items:
Just a very few tickets remain for April’s Epic Pie Tasting, scheduled for next Thursday.
Our May Pie of the Month is Dreamsicle, which won the March tasting. We start by making a lemon filling, but instead of adding lemon juice, we add orange juice concentrate. There’s also concentrate in the whipping cream.
We worked on it yesterday and today so that we could perfect the recipe. That required Jeanne trying it like 12 times and did you know she hates all fruit? HATES. Maybe once a year she has a banana. So her 12 bites of Dreamsicle probably did more to combat scurvy in her body than the last 10 years.
Last week, Ellery and I left our house with our dog to go for a walk. She walked out our front porch and turned to the driveway, screamed bloody murder, and ran back to the house. There was a MASSIVE snake on our driveway and there’s nothing I hate more. NOTHING. So I screamed because she screamed and at the same time, PJP Nifong called me. An afternoon Team PJP member was on the phone with a customer who needed to talk to me to see if they could order a Rhubarb Custard - the lowest scoring flavor from March’s tasting. I said no because literally no one liked that pie but him, but I’m sure he wondered about all the screaming.
After I hung up, I said to Jason we would probably have to move because I can’t think about a snake in the driveway. He said snakes are everywhere and I said they aren’t in Ireland. So the real question is whether we thinking PJP Dublin could be a thing?
