When it comes to dessert there’s really only one legitimate option to serve to respectable company, and that’s pie. Why pie? Because every half-witted numbskull with a Betty Crocker cookbook can put together a cake. It’s a fucking piece of cake. But pie? Pie takes time and craftsmanship. It takes GUTS to make a pie. Not real guts, the figurative kind. You walk into a potluck meal with a pie and the gathered masses will wonder “Hey, just how great of a person is that pie-wielding hero?” Marie Antoinette said “let them eat cake” because that bitch knew that cake is spongy peasant food masquerading as a treat. Marie Antoinette didn’t give a fuck: she’d rather die than give up her pie.
The granddaddy of all pies is the banana cream pie. Don’t agree? I don’t care; you’re wrong. You probably were born with half a taste bud or had some trauma involving bananas and cream as a youth that you should keep to yourself. For those of us with adult palates and a penchant for the finer things, it gets no better than banana cream pie. It’s the perfect pie for eating and for winging in some clown’s face. Properly employed, it will also get you laid. This is a guarantee.
Anyway, here’s how I make a banana cream pie.
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