“It’s Pi Day!”
“Pi day, what’s that you say?”
“Yes, yes, it’s Pi day. Only 4.13 days away!”
“4.13 days until…”
“3.14 you say?”
“Yes, I say, I say! Pi day is just 4.13 days away!”
Or so might have written Dr. Seuss if he’d been aware of this day…this day, Pi Day.
4.13 days from today.
Plus or minus, I may be a decimal off. But who’s counting? We’re talking math on a food blog, right? I mean….math? Really? Math?
Yes, math.
Or “maths” I might say if if I’m frying up a skillet of bangers and mash.
Though I may talk a big game about drinking red wine for breakfast, my passion in life is math.
Shades of truth.
Let me rephrase: On the spectrum, I’m a little more Kevin Gnapoor than Regina George.
Does the reference perplex you?
Here’s a visual: I organize each Thanksgiving on a multi-page spreadsheet that tracks menu, shopping, and even the seating arrangement.
That was hard to admit.
A softer landing might have been that…I enjoy Sudoku! or…I really like the number 3!
But my style is to never tell you half-truths. I could have claimed that my Tarte Tatin was a rousing success. That I made those sticky toffee puddings in five minutes with one arm tied behind my back. And I didn’t.
Who would I be lying to? Me, that’s who.
Since we’re on the topic of multi-tab spreadsheets, here’s another admission: TED talks. Consumed in mass quantity. On topics such as monster primes and invisible motion.
While Rodney unwinds with a Scotch on the rocks and The Mindy Project, I take my nighttime routine to the bedroom. Teeth brushed and swaddled in polyester, I pull on an eye mask and pop in some earbuds.
“Smart guy, this Ted?” Rodney asked me after I admitted to my nightly forays into math and technology.
TED, my love, is not a guy. TED is a mindset. TED is a willingness to cram a few more minutes of learning into your day. It’s the voice of Stephen Hawking. It’s the music of Mark Ronson, and the story of Thomas Hellum, who spoke about the world’s most boring television program. Which was moving, and beautiful, and convinced me that I needed to watch all 18 hours of that fishing expedition in Norway.
Of late, it’s my secret crush, Harry Baker who, fresh off his win as the World Poetry Slam Champion, recited “A love poem for lonely prime numbers”. Making me realize that math, too, makes me weak in the knees.
And food….Well, food + math? I’m fainting a little bit over here.
Whoever invented this holiday of holidays, this Pi day – a day to celebrate the two best things in life – is a wizard.
Maybe you, Pi Day creator, should have your own TED talk.
To celebrate Pi day, I’m taking you the place for pie. Mecca for pie lovers. And it just so happens to be in my backyard. If you include the Brooklyn bridge in my backyard. And all of those chain link fences that I passed on my walk from the subway.
Four & Twenty Blackbirds is the kind of place where you stay a while. You gossip, you eat, you laugh. You eat all the pie. And then you bring more slices home. Because family members shouldn’t live their lives without tasting a bite of salty honey, lemon chess, or salted caramel apple.
It’s the kind of pie that needs to be stored on the windowsill, to protect it from hungry pups, who have a fondness for bacon treats and anything sweet.
It’s the kind of place where you buy the cookbook, and gaze at the photos, promising one day to attempt that intricate lattice, knowing that you likely never will.
Yes, it’s that kind of place. A place worthy enough. For Pi Day that is. I hope that you’ll all agree.
