As 2011 has been declared "the year of the pie" Jersey Pie has expanded operations. In addition to seeking out the best pie available to us in our home environs and posting our observations we will, whenever possible, submit reports on all things pie from correspondents outside of Jersey for your amusement and edification. First up, The Big Apple.
Urban Gastronomy for Jersey Pie
It was a cold February night, the type where most people cozy up next to a fire with a well made Manhattan or a neat pour of fine Scotch. All right, okay. I see what you might be thinking. Maybe most people don’t do that, but if I had a fireplace I surely would. But, I don’t. And I had a mission.
My mission was to eat pie at one of two places recently raved about in "Move over, cupcakes: Pie is the hot new dessert trend"--the very same article in the New Jersey Record that featured Jersey Pie. This was a most delicious mission indeed.
I should be honest about something before we go any further. Until recently, I wasn’t really that into pie. And still, given a choice, I’ll go for the molten chocolate cake or an after-dinner cocktail instead. So, I don’t have the connoisseur qualifications of our friends at Jersey Pie. But, that said, I do enjoy a good dessert.
So, on that frigid eve, I stood ogling the menu at momofuku milk bar with LP. We had decided to have pie before we had dinner at ssäm bar. Why not? We were celebrating LP’s birthday, and if you can’t have dessert before birthday dinner when can you?
The menu did not offer a traditional selection—no apple, cherry or lemon custard to behold. But, there was a slice that I suspected would satisfy even a staunch chocolateer like myself--candy bar pie! Chocolate crust, caramel, peanut butter nougat, pretzels--the words called to me like sirens on dessert seas!
I took a moment to quiz the gentleman at the counter. There are no actual store-bought candy bars in that pie, are there? I’m sure my question was annoying, but I’m that kind of girl. Food merchants all over town find me slightly exasperating because of my questions (e.g., Does that oat scone contain any whole grain flour? Is the chai latte made with a pre-sweetened mix or is it real tea with steamed milk and honey?) No apologies! An urban gastronomer has to have her standards.
The counter man at momofuku milk bar assured me that all parts of the candy bar pie were house made. So, I ordered it with glee (which is not to say that I sang about it, but rather that I ordered with a joyful heart--candy bar pie!).
LP chose their trademarked crack pie with a ‘toasted oat crust’ and ‘gooey butter filling’ because who, really, can refuse trademarked crack? Who?
We awaited pie with great anticipation. I envisioned a radically decadent yet elegant slice, carefully lifted from the pie plate and artfully arranged so its buttery insides ooze here and there over that dark chocolaty crust. What a surprise it was when the counter man deftly handed me a little cardboard envelope.
Momofuko pie is not your traditional fruit slice. It has a modern sensibility about it--portable pie for an on-the-go world. This is pie you can eat walking down the street while updating your FB status on your smart phone. I sighed. The part of me that likes pie is nostalgic. I wanted that fresh out-of-the-oven feeling. But, I put it aside. Pie can come in all kinds of packages and still be delicious, right?
Well, maybe... The crack pie was reminiscent of dulche de leche, but unlike its name suggested, we were neither high nor crazy about getting the next slice. If you'd like to try making it at home, the recipe is available on Epicurious.
The candy bar pie was achingly sweet. Three small bites, and I was done, but I do have a low sugar tolerance. A study of the label revealed a long complicated list of ingredients... way too many for pie! But I did finish the slice, bite by bite over the next four days…
Whether you venture to momofuko milk bar should depend upon your taste. If you are a die-hard pie traditionalist, then my friend, it is not for you. If you like your desserts super sweet and also want the flexibility to eat pie on the go, well this is your spot!
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Monday, January 31, 2011
National Pie Day, 2011
In case you are new to Jersey Pie, The Tick Tock Diner in Clifton, NJ came out on top in our year-plus long search for the best cherry pie in New Jersey, which evolved into a search for a tolerable slice of cherry pie in a Northeast Jersey diner. It was our intention to keep Jersey Pie alive by continuing to search for good food and desserts in this neck of the woods, but our momentum slowed, and we haven't made any new entries in almost a year.
Turns out our efforts did not go unnoticed. Kara Yorio, staff writer at The Record, contacted us as she was preparing her article on the American resurgence of interest in pie, and she graciously included our thoughts in the recently published article Move over cupcakes: Pie is the hot new pastry trend. Reading her article we learned a few new things. Did you know of the American Pie Council? Are you aware that Sunday, January 23rd was National Pie Day? We admit we were tickled pink by our recent notoriety, and we decided to celebrate NPD at the Tick Tock, because their winning cherry pie was truly tasty.
That night, a crisp January night under a waning Ice Moon, the Tick Tock was quiet at 5:30 p.m. So quiet that we went unnoticed by our waitress for quite some time; time which we used to consider whether National Pie Day celebrated all pies, dessert pies, or possibly even only fruit pies. We later downloaded our 2011 National Pie Day poster from the American Pie Council. The poster pie is not a common man's pie, and we ventured a guess that it was a dessert pie, but not a fruit, and might be Chess. "Is that a raisin?" Jersey Pie queried. "It doesn’t matter if it’s Apple, Cherry or Chocolate Cream. It makes the time we spend together, just a little sweeter," the poster says. The savory pies, it seems, are excluded. Sorry chicken pot.
We ordered light, and let our waitress know we were saving room for dessert, which she took in stride. After soup and a sandwich, when we said we were interested in pie, her face lit up. "Cherry pie?" she asked with an in-the-know brightness all about her. We instantly looked at one another, wondering if (hoping?) we'd been made. "There was an article," she sounded delighted, "and people just kept coming in last night." She clarified that she had not been present, but had heard about it from another waitress. She speculated that maybe about "twenty five thousand people" had come in and that they had made their way through, literally, a dozen pies. "So it's fresh! They make it right downstairs." We could barely contain ourselves. The dessert trend was just announced yesterday, and today, it's already a new world. Never in all our travels had we received such caring and enthusiastic reassurance that the freshness of our pie experience matters.
This pie confirmed the Tick Tock Diner's winning status. Maybe they could turn up the temperature on their refrigerator a couple of degrees, maybe they could lighten up a little on the thickening agent in their matrix, maybe they could put a leeeeetle bit more salt in a leeeeetle bit flakier crust, but as diner pie goes, this is mighty fine pie, not too sweet, plenty of perky cherries, and truly fresh, with a satisfying crust. We asked our waitress which was her favorite pie, and she confessed that she had never tried any of them. She described herself as a chocolate mousse girl. But before we left she came by our table to share with us that she thought the cherry pie tasted good. She said that she had tried a piece that "they couldn't sell." We can only speculate on whether the pie was aesthetically impaired, cut too small, or perhaps had sat in the refrigerator too long. Whatever the case, Jersey Pie thanks the Tick Tock for making the distinction.
Now, we'd love to be able to say that Jersey Pie created or even predicted that pie was the next big thing in desserts, but we'd be setting ourselves up for a pie in the face. Still, as pie lovers, we are not going to miss an opportunity to leverage this overdue trend into some decent diner pie experiences in the state of New Jersey. So, Jersey diners: you have been served. Jersey Pie is back, rolling the Garden State's highways and byways to report on how this dessert trend plays out for the common man.
Turns out our efforts did not go unnoticed. Kara Yorio, staff writer at The Record, contacted us as she was preparing her article on the American resurgence of interest in pie, and she graciously included our thoughts in the recently published article Move over cupcakes: Pie is the hot new pastry trend. Reading her article we learned a few new things. Did you know of the American Pie Council? Are you aware that Sunday, January 23rd was National Pie Day? We admit we were tickled pink by our recent notoriety, and we decided to celebrate NPD at the Tick Tock, because their winning cherry pie was truly tasty.
That night, a crisp January night under a waning Ice Moon, the Tick Tock was quiet at 5:30 p.m. So quiet that we went unnoticed by our waitress for quite some time; time which we used to consider whether National Pie Day celebrated all pies, dessert pies, or possibly even only fruit pies. We later downloaded our 2011 National Pie Day poster from the American Pie Council. The poster pie is not a common man's pie, and we ventured a guess that it was a dessert pie, but not a fruit, and might be Chess. "Is that a raisin?" Jersey Pie queried. "It doesn’t matter if it’s Apple, Cherry or Chocolate Cream. It makes the time we spend together, just a little sweeter," the poster says. The savory pies, it seems, are excluded. Sorry chicken pot.
We ordered light, and let our waitress know we were saving room for dessert, which she took in stride. After soup and a sandwich, when we said we were interested in pie, her face lit up. "Cherry pie?" she asked with an in-the-know brightness all about her. We instantly looked at one another, wondering if (hoping?) we'd been made. "There was an article," she sounded delighted, "and people just kept coming in last night." She clarified that she had not been present, but had heard about it from another waitress. She speculated that maybe about "twenty five thousand people" had come in and that they had made their way through, literally, a dozen pies. "So it's fresh! They make it right downstairs." We could barely contain ourselves. The dessert trend was just announced yesterday, and today, it's already a new world. Never in all our travels had we received such caring and enthusiastic reassurance that the freshness of our pie experience matters.
This pie confirmed the Tick Tock Diner's winning status. Maybe they could turn up the temperature on their refrigerator a couple of degrees, maybe they could lighten up a little on the thickening agent in their matrix, maybe they could put a leeeeetle bit more salt in a leeeeetle bit flakier crust, but as diner pie goes, this is mighty fine pie, not too sweet, plenty of perky cherries, and truly fresh, with a satisfying crust. We asked our waitress which was her favorite pie, and she confessed that she had never tried any of them. She described herself as a chocolate mousse girl. But before we left she came by our table to share with us that she thought the cherry pie tasted good. She said that she had tried a piece that "they couldn't sell." We can only speculate on whether the pie was aesthetically impaired, cut too small, or perhaps had sat in the refrigerator too long. Whatever the case, Jersey Pie thanks the Tick Tock for making the distinction.
Now, we'd love to be able to say that Jersey Pie created or even predicted that pie was the next big thing in desserts, but we'd be setting ourselves up for a pie in the face. Still, as pie lovers, we are not going to miss an opportunity to leverage this overdue trend into some decent diner pie experiences in the state of New Jersey. So, Jersey diners: you have been served. Jersey Pie is back, rolling the Garden State's highways and byways to report on how this dessert trend plays out for the common man.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
No Way. Really? How Cool Is That?
Jersey Pie were just interviewed by The Record, a North Jersey Newspaper, for an article on, yes, you guessed it, pie, that will appear in the Saturday, January 22nd edition in anticipation of National Pie Day, January 23rd.
Will we end up on the cutting room floor? Will our stroked egos inspire further pie adventures? Join us on the edge of our seats in anticipation.
Will we end up on the cutting room floor? Will our stroked egos inspire further pie adventures? Join us on the edge of our seats in anticipation.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
The Edison Diner, Edison
101 Route 1 South
Edison, NJ 08817
Cherry Pie: $3.45
Coffee: $1.50
When we started this blog about a year ago we had no idea where it would take us. Seemed simple enough: find some local eateries, try out their cherry pie and report. We didn't know we would end up touring Northern New Jersey's diners. But, apart from some road trips to local farmer's markets, that's pretty much what happened. We like diners. We find the kitsch, nostalgia and food comforting. You know what you're going to get but have to be prepared for surprises - good and bad.
Followers of Jersey Pie are already well aware that one of our surprises was how bad a slice of diner cherry pie could be. But that didn't phase us anywhere near as much as the more recent surprise dished up by the Tick Tock Diner: really good cherry pie. The Tick Tock pie was good enough to totally throw us off our game. Had we finally found the best? All we knew is we simply could not face another plate of coagulated goo knowing a good piece of pie was just down route 3. Now what?
So, we came up with this idea. Troll the web for Jersey's best, and limit our expeditions to 5 star diners. That's how we ended up at the Edison Diner. It was on someone's top 5 list, and the website played the theme song from the Andy Griffith Show. It had to be good. Thirty minutes after leaving home we took exit 10 off the Turnpike and headed south on route 1.
Finally, we found ourselves at a nondescript diner-restaurant, seated near the restroom, with a basket of warm buns. Mmmmm. The Edison Diner makes their own bread every day, and it is tasty. We each had a classic Blue Plate (with some adjustments). The meal was good, but no better than our local Coach House, just 10 minutes from home. When the pie was served, we observed all over again the heavy shortbread crust, the gooey egg glazed top, and the paltry filling. To their credit, the crust was tasty. It was fresh, and perfectly sweetened. But the cherries were flavorless. Alas. Tick Tock. Tick Tock.
We spent the 40 minute drive home coming up with a new strategy. Here it is. In an entire year we have only had three good pieces of diner cherry pie. It is time to declare a winner. In order to win, a diner must deliver a second equally good piece of pie. The contenders for the top Jersey Pie prize--which in fairness we must specify is really North-eastern Jersey Pie--are The Tom Sawyer Diner, The Tick Tock Diner, and The Jubilee Park Diner. We will return to each diner, eat pie, and tell you the results over the next month or so.
Edison, NJ 08817
Cherry Pie: $3.45
Coffee: $1.50
When we started this blog about a year ago we had no idea where it would take us. Seemed simple enough: find some local eateries, try out their cherry pie and report. We didn't know we would end up touring Northern New Jersey's diners. But, apart from some road trips to local farmer's markets, that's pretty much what happened. We like diners. We find the kitsch, nostalgia and food comforting. You know what you're going to get but have to be prepared for surprises - good and bad.
Followers of Jersey Pie are already well aware that one of our surprises was how bad a slice of diner cherry pie could be. But that didn't phase us anywhere near as much as the more recent surprise dished up by the Tick Tock Diner: really good cherry pie. The Tick Tock pie was good enough to totally throw us off our game. Had we finally found the best? All we knew is we simply could not face another plate of coagulated goo knowing a good piece of pie was just down route 3. Now what?
So, we came up with this idea. Troll the web for Jersey's best, and limit our expeditions to 5 star diners. That's how we ended up at the Edison Diner. It was on someone's top 5 list, and the website played the theme song from the Andy Griffith Show. It had to be good. Thirty minutes after leaving home we took exit 10 off the Turnpike and headed south on route 1.
Finally, we found ourselves at a nondescript diner-restaurant, seated near the restroom, with a basket of warm buns. Mmmmm. The Edison Diner makes their own bread every day, and it is tasty. We each had a classic Blue Plate (with some adjustments). The meal was good, but no better than our local Coach House, just 10 minutes from home. When the pie was served, we observed all over again the heavy shortbread crust, the gooey egg glazed top, and the paltry filling. To their credit, the crust was tasty. It was fresh, and perfectly sweetened. But the cherries were flavorless. Alas. Tick Tock. Tick Tock.
We spent the 40 minute drive home coming up with a new strategy. Here it is. In an entire year we have only had three good pieces of diner cherry pie. It is time to declare a winner. In order to win, a diner must deliver a second equally good piece of pie. The contenders for the top Jersey Pie prize--which in fairness we must specify is really North-eastern Jersey Pie--are The Tom Sawyer Diner, The Tick Tock Diner, and The Jubilee Park Diner. We will return to each diner, eat pie, and tell you the results over the next month or so.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Tick Tock Diner, Clifton
281 Allwood Road
Clifton, NJ 07012
Cherry Pie: $3.75
Coffee: $1.25
There was an element of destiny in it.
We were heading out on Rte 3 for breakfast, not pie, watching the "conventioneers’ hotels and discount stores and fast-food restaurants and office complexes and Home Depot and Best Buy and Ethan Allen" roll by, when - Ding! - it's the Tick Tock, and Evy T. Chevy makes a legal-"ish" right turn (scrreeeee!) into the parking lot around noon... It's packed. We find a space, get out. Smack, smack, the doors pop shut, and seconds later we are in the vestibule checking out the gum ball and novelty machines. Sweet. They have smokin' tattoo transfers (we scored a butterfly and a hawk). Little red-headed girls were groovin' on the necklace machine. Happy diners (surprisingly healthy-looking) filing in and out. Talkin' 'bout diner paradise. Let's do it.
Tick Tock Diner is a gleaming beacon of comfort on Route 3 in Clifton. We'd driven by there many tired nights after long journeys out into the Jersey hinterland and had been brightened by her shining chrome, flawless neon, and retro chic. She always beckoned, but by the time we passed the Tick Tock we were just over the hill from our favorite view of the Manhattan skyline which meant a home-cooked meal was not far away. So, we hadn't stopped in, until today.
Inside, the Tick Tock has gray detailing in its curved ceiling, and classic brown Formica table tops that match the red-toned, large-speckle floors. She has capital "C" clean booths with easy-wipe seats, balanced by comfy fabric backrests. A good diner has got to be a lady, 'cause she serves up what sustains us, and at the Tick Tock that comes on custom made diner-ware tastefully decorated with the Tick Tock logo and their motto: eat heavy. Breakfast was good, and then we asked the question we know you've been waiting for: Do ya have any cherry pie? Yes!
The TickTock passed the white-glove test for cleanliness, but could she pass the cherry pie test for yumminess? Plenty of perfectly good Jersey diners before them have fallen down on a slice of cherry pie. It's not an easy dessert to do right. Turn over has to be high to keep this low-demand item fresh. The clock is always running ...Tick, tock, tick, tock...
Our waitress got extra points for bringing the coffee, cream, and pie out together. Come to think of it, she's the first waitress to pull off this feat since we began our search. Kudos! Mmmmm... let's have a look at that pie. It's a healthy slice, and it's holding its form due to a fair number of cherries in the matrix. There is some flake to the crust, and whoa!, what's this? Before we can fully dissect the slice, forks are sliding in around those fulsome cherries; bites are accelerating.. Yes, this pie...it has that certain je ne sais quois; it is calling to something deeper within us, and that mysterious radar is bang on. That's a good pie. Right to the last bite something joyfully seductive had our forks jousting for the best position on the slice, and we ate every bit of the pie, crust and all. Coffee was just fine.
Let's not quibble about whether the pie was properly classified as a "gourmet dessert" as their menu asserts. This pie had no refrigerator damage and artfully split the difference between a shortbread and pastry crust. It had a thickened matrix, but not that cling, and it tasted tart but sweet, as a cherry pie should. If we could shame Jersey diners into accepting the Tick Tock pie as the acceptable standard in cherry goodness our work would be done. Hats off to you, Tick Tock! We'll be back.
Clifton, NJ 07012
Cherry Pie: $3.75
Coffee: $1.25
There was an element of destiny in it.
We were heading out on Rte 3 for breakfast, not pie, watching the "conventioneers’ hotels and discount stores and fast-food restaurants and office complexes and Home Depot and Best Buy and Ethan Allen" roll by, when - Ding! - it's the Tick Tock, and Evy T. Chevy makes a legal-"ish" right turn (scrreeeee!) into the parking lot around noon... It's packed. We find a space, get out. Smack, smack, the doors pop shut, and seconds later we are in the vestibule checking out the gum ball and novelty machines. Sweet. They have smokin' tattoo transfers (we scored a butterfly and a hawk). Little red-headed girls were groovin' on the necklace machine. Happy diners (surprisingly healthy-looking) filing in and out. Talkin' 'bout diner paradise. Let's do it.
Tick Tock Diner is a gleaming beacon of comfort on Route 3 in Clifton. We'd driven by there many tired nights after long journeys out into the Jersey hinterland and had been brightened by her shining chrome, flawless neon, and retro chic. She always beckoned, but by the time we passed the Tick Tock we were just over the hill from our favorite view of the Manhattan skyline which meant a home-cooked meal was not far away. So, we hadn't stopped in, until today.
Inside, the Tick Tock has gray detailing in its curved ceiling, and classic brown Formica table tops that match the red-toned, large-speckle floors. She has capital "C" clean booths with easy-wipe seats, balanced by comfy fabric backrests. A good diner has got to be a lady, 'cause she serves up what sustains us, and at the Tick Tock that comes on custom made diner-ware tastefully decorated with the Tick Tock logo and their motto: eat heavy. Breakfast was good, and then we asked the question we know you've been waiting for: Do ya have any cherry pie? Yes!
The TickTock passed the white-glove test for cleanliness, but could she pass the cherry pie test for yumminess? Plenty of perfectly good Jersey diners before them have fallen down on a slice of cherry pie. It's not an easy dessert to do right. Turn over has to be high to keep this low-demand item fresh. The clock is always running ...Tick, tock, tick, tock...
Our waitress got extra points for bringing the coffee, cream, and pie out together. Come to think of it, she's the first waitress to pull off this feat since we began our search. Kudos! Mmmmm... let's have a look at that pie. It's a healthy slice, and it's holding its form due to a fair number of cherries in the matrix. There is some flake to the crust, and whoa!, what's this? Before we can fully dissect the slice, forks are sliding in around those fulsome cherries; bites are accelerating.. Yes, this pie...it has that certain je ne sais quois; it is calling to something deeper within us, and that mysterious radar is bang on. That's a good pie. Right to the last bite something joyfully seductive had our forks jousting for the best position on the slice, and we ate every bit of the pie, crust and all. Coffee was just fine.
Let's not quibble about whether the pie was properly classified as a "gourmet dessert" as their menu asserts. This pie had no refrigerator damage and artfully split the difference between a shortbread and pastry crust. It had a thickened matrix, but not that cling, and it tasted tart but sweet, as a cherry pie should. If we could shame Jersey diners into accepting the Tick Tock pie as the acceptable standard in cherry goodness our work would be done. Hats off to you, Tick Tock! We'll be back.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Jersey Pie Road Trip IV
Old Hook Farm
650 Old Hook Road
Emerson, NJ 07630
Cherry Pie: $12.99
We may have found one answer for Los Lonely Boys. As is often the case with deep, deep questions: How far is heaven? The answer comes in the form of another question: How far are you from Emerson, New Jersey? Los Lonely Boys, if you are reading this, we found a piece of heaven there.
Not cherry pie heaven, alas. So, this will be brief. The pies sold at Old Hook Farm come from Connecticut. They are frozen in season, then baked at Old Hook. Shipping notwithstanding it is a very good pie, a somewhat sophisticated pie. Pie for grown-ups is what we have here, by which we mean that the sugar content in the filling is low, as is the salt content in the crust. Your inner child may want ice-cream on the side. Your adult will be satisfied with the pie as is. We must point out that the matrix was not the juicy, free-flowing one that we prefer. A baker that allows the juice to flow is, we acknowledge, taking a risk that the bottom crust will be mushy, and maybe even pasty, but we know what we like. Was this matrix gelatinous goo? No, not that bad. Still, pies that are thickened with gelatin or over-thickened with modified food starch get points taken away here at Jersey Pie. To be fair, had this pie been served at a diner, we would have been blown out of our socks.
As for the heaven at Old Hook Farm, look no further than the small baskets of organic vegetables with signs proudly proclaiming "our own." We brought home baby white turnips, Boston lettuce, chives, baby bok choy, tomatoes, and apples. Their goodness cannot be shared except by convincing you to experience this for yourself. We just hope that you will eschew the convenience of mega-corp superstores and their tasteless, lifeless produce one time this year before the farm stands close at the end of the harvest season. As for us, this may be our last road trip. Look for another trip to a local diner next week, as we search for a nice slice with a cup of coffee.
650 Old Hook Road
Emerson, NJ 07630
Cherry Pie: $12.99
We may have found one answer for Los Lonely Boys. As is often the case with deep, deep questions: How far is heaven? The answer comes in the form of another question: How far are you from Emerson, New Jersey? Los Lonely Boys, if you are reading this, we found a piece of heaven there.
Not cherry pie heaven, alas. So, this will be brief. The pies sold at Old Hook Farm come from Connecticut. They are frozen in season, then baked at Old Hook. Shipping notwithstanding it is a very good pie, a somewhat sophisticated pie. Pie for grown-ups is what we have here, by which we mean that the sugar content in the filling is low, as is the salt content in the crust. Your inner child may want ice-cream on the side. Your adult will be satisfied with the pie as is. We must point out that the matrix was not the juicy, free-flowing one that we prefer. A baker that allows the juice to flow is, we acknowledge, taking a risk that the bottom crust will be mushy, and maybe even pasty, but we know what we like. Was this matrix gelatinous goo? No, not that bad. Still, pies that are thickened with gelatin or over-thickened with modified food starch get points taken away here at Jersey Pie. To be fair, had this pie been served at a diner, we would have been blown out of our socks.
As for the heaven at Old Hook Farm, look no further than the small baskets of organic vegetables with signs proudly proclaiming "our own." We brought home baby white turnips, Boston lettuce, chives, baby bok choy, tomatoes, and apples. Their goodness cannot be shared except by convincing you to experience this for yourself. We just hope that you will eschew the convenience of mega-corp superstores and their tasteless, lifeless produce one time this year before the farm stands close at the end of the harvest season. As for us, this may be our last road trip. Look for another trip to a local diner next week, as we search for a nice slice with a cup of coffee.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Guest Blogger: A Jersey Pie First
September 13 and 17—A stranger here, myself
NJ Turnpike, Walt Whitman Service Area and Matthew’s Colonial Diner
As a visitor from the left coast, I was kindly invited to submit a guest blog to Jersey Pie. In keeping with the Summer Road Trip theme, this submittal recounts, in part, a trip with half of JerPie to Washington DC via the New Jersey Turnpike. This being a four-hour drive, it was necessary to take our chances with lunch at a turnpike service area. It was a service area, apparently much like any service area, offering: Carvel, Nathan's Cinnabon and Roy Rogers fare. JerPie enjoyed RR’s fried chicken and biscuit, my other half dined in characteristic, health-minded manner on Caesar salad, while I can’t remember what I ordered. Chicken Caesar, maybe. No matter. The important item, displayed near the cash register as a last-minute, impulse gottahaveit, was a small box, measuring 4 _ inches square, picturing three plump, shiny, cherries, and cooing, “Baked CHERRY PIE.” Yes, the capitalization is correct. Yes, they seemed to feel it necessary to assure me that this CHERRY PIE was baked. I have the box before me now, and next to the plump, juicy cherries is the legend, “table talk.” Now, I have been a follower of Jersey Pie since it began, and I knew my duty. Further, I knew the words, “gelatinous,” “goo,” “irascible” and “booger.” Unafraid, I paid me my money down, stoutheartedly prepared to dive into a confection to which those words might well be applied. This baked cherry pie contained no nut shells, even though it was “manufactured in a facility that also produces products containing treenuts.” Thank god for that. Enough for the praise part of this report. This lackluster little product of Worcester, MA 01610 contained 7 rather deflated cherries in a matrix of gelatinous goo. The crust was what passes in almost all eateries as pie crust, as opposed to cookie or shortbread or puff pastry crust. Well, I’m sorry, but as a pie baker I must assert that merely being clearly recognizable as pie crust does not an A+ pie make.
When I make a cherry pie, the ingredients are cherries, flour, sugar, Crisco, water, almond extract, cornstarch and salt. When table talk makes a cherry pie, the ingredients are “wheat flour, water, cherries, sugar, palm oil, modified food starch, salt, potassium sorbate and sodium propionate (preservatives) nonfat dry milk, dextrose.” More water than cherries? So that’s how they make their goo! Here is a sentence from a blog: “Modified food starches are used in a mind-boggling variety of products - luncheon meats, orange juice, baked goods, biofuels, bioplastics, and the list goes on. . . .” So THAT’S why we all want to nibble bioplastics! Another ingredient, palm oil, is discussed in a pdf download titled, “Cruel oil: how palm oil harms health, rainforests and wildlife.” Read it and weep. It does, at least, explain how this tiny dessert came to have a whopping 9 grams of saturated fat. My personal daily allowance of sat fat is 10 grams. And that baked cherry pie was not a good way to use up my quota. I’m beginning to feel a bit mean-spirited and critical. After all, table talk must, at its inception, have said to itself, “Let us try to insert a bit of tasty home cooking into the monotonous life of the long-distance traveler,” then run up against the vagaries of mass production. Maybe this is the best that can be done under the circumstances. But when far from home, in a 7/11 or service area, stricken by a NEED for a sweet treat—oh, yes. It’s Snickers, hands down.
Washington, DC was a whirlwind of concentrated activity, all very nourishing and satisfying. Upon return to Jersey, a wonderful field trip to a most-refreshing nature preserve restored my biobalance, and I was delighted to return to the search for a passable cherry pie. New Jersey rightly deserves the sobriquet, “The Garden State.” It is truly lovely, with tall, stately hardwoods gracing its gently rolling hills. The Palisade is a natural wonder that I could stare at for days on end. My own state is heavily forested, too, but with evergreens that offer darkness, not shade. Our hills are steep and challenging. Our tunnels of trees offer no vistas beyond the road’s edge. I love the eastern landscape. And so I did enormously enjoy our drive through one hamlet after another to Waldwick, and Matthew’s Colonial Diner.
Matthew’s Colonial Diner. Oak paneling and box-beam ceilings. Tasteful chandeliers, supplementing can lighting. Paned windows. Brick fireplace. A man cleaning the windows in the doors between the kitchen and the dining area. I mean, he was polishing that little window. So I looked at the floor, typically not a good idea. This floor was CLEAN. A clean, green carpet. Clean. Oak tables. Comfortable chairs. The waitress: dignity. Blonde hair, tastefully pulled back from her tawny face. Dark brown eyes. A touch of the cat, but controlled. Cool. Professional. We each chose from their ample menu a luncheon special, including a main dish, beverage and dessert. Mm-hm. Dessert. You can guess what I was thinking. But first, JerPie ordered a Florentine omelet, in which she detected a hint of dill, accompanied by home-fried potatoes. Better Half (BH) got a tuna sandwich on whole wheat, with slaw, while I opted for egg salad sandwich, identically accompanied. Those sandwiches were no less than 2 _ inches thick. Generous, homey, delicious sandwiches, not made out to be more than they were by the addition of way too much mayo. They were loaded with tuna and egg, respectively, with crisp lettuce for crunch. We each ate half, and took the second halves away with us. Matthew’s Colonial Diner was lookin’ good!
For dessert, BH chose strawberry ice cream and received a most generous serving. Jerpie took the brownie, but I’m telling you, that looked more like pure chocolate decadence with a walnut on top. This so-called brownie was fully 3 by 1 _ inches, probably more. It was a double-decker, more than 2 _ inches tall, with dark chocolate icing. JerPie declared it “the best brownie.” You probably know that that was high praise, indeed. And I? I asked if there was cherry pie. “Yes, but it’s not part of the lunch special,” says our serving person. I’ll have the cherry pie, and coffee, please, says I. I think my dessert was delivered somewhat proudly, with a wonderful, smiling, “Here you are, Darlin’.” and look at this!
Now, that’s presentation. That’s class. That’s diner pie???? Maybe in New Jersey. It’s fancy restaurant pie where I come from. Two florets of real whipped cream, a zigzag of raspberry puree, very pretty indeed. Ah, but let’s taste. Off comes the crust, and Jerpie detects a modicum of flakiness. Not like grandma used to make, but okay, it’s a commercial product. I like my crust sparkling with sugar, but this one was brushed with something shiny and sticky. I think that might be a regional preference. Is it milk? Egg white? Dunno. Cherry count: 17, which JerPie declares quite respectable. Taste: cherries are a good sweet/tart, flavorful mouthful. Matrix: Oh, no! Gelatinous goo which disrespects the cherries. It hints at refrigerator taste, it is cold, sweet and flavorless. This goo really has elastic strength, as proven by this photo, this forkful being held in place while I rummaged in my purse for my camera, removed it from its case, turned it on, aimed and shot, while that irascible loogy just hung there. That’s just not right!
To grasp the difference between goo and juice, may I respectfully refer you to the painting of “The Slice” at the top of this blog. Certainly, the juice must be thickened, and there are tapioca, cornstarch, and flour people. But the gelatinous goo we keep finding in bought pies must be the result of that Modified Food Starch that table talk confessed to. And I have a theory about the reason for that. My cherry pie, before baking, has cherries piled as high as the piepan can contain.
When baked, this mountain of fruit has settled down to the level of the top of the piepan. Can it be that filling a pie with gelatinous goo allows one to add cherries only up to the top of the piepan, knowing they can’t collapse, being held snugly in place by the goo? Perhaps an expert will check in on that score and elucidate us all.
Back to you, Jersey Pie. Thanks for the opportunity to contribute.
Love,
Mom
NJ Turnpike, Walt Whitman Service Area and Matthew’s Colonial Diner
As a visitor from the left coast, I was kindly invited to submit a guest blog to Jersey Pie. In keeping with the Summer Road Trip theme, this submittal recounts, in part, a trip with half of JerPie to Washington DC via the New Jersey Turnpike. This being a four-hour drive, it was necessary to take our chances with lunch at a turnpike service area. It was a service area, apparently much like any service area, offering: Carvel, Nathan's Cinnabon and Roy Rogers fare. JerPie enjoyed RR’s fried chicken and biscuit, my other half dined in characteristic, health-minded manner on Caesar salad, while I can’t remember what I ordered. Chicken Caesar, maybe. No matter. The important item, displayed near the cash register as a last-minute, impulse gottahaveit, was a small box, measuring 4 _ inches square, picturing three plump, shiny, cherries, and cooing, “Baked CHERRY PIE.” Yes, the capitalization is correct. Yes, they seemed to feel it necessary to assure me that this CHERRY PIE was baked. I have the box before me now, and next to the plump, juicy cherries is the legend, “table talk.” Now, I have been a follower of Jersey Pie since it began, and I knew my duty. Further, I knew the words, “gelatinous,” “goo,” “irascible” and “booger.” Unafraid, I paid me my money down, stoutheartedly prepared to dive into a confection to which those words might well be applied. This baked cherry pie contained no nut shells, even though it was “manufactured in a facility that also produces products containing treenuts.” Thank god for that. Enough for the praise part of this report. This lackluster little product of Worcester, MA 01610 contained 7 rather deflated cherries in a matrix of gelatinous goo. The crust was what passes in almost all eateries as pie crust, as opposed to cookie or shortbread or puff pastry crust. Well, I’m sorry, but as a pie baker I must assert that merely being clearly recognizable as pie crust does not an A+ pie make.
When I make a cherry pie, the ingredients are cherries, flour, sugar, Crisco, water, almond extract, cornstarch and salt. When table talk makes a cherry pie, the ingredients are “wheat flour, water, cherries, sugar, palm oil, modified food starch, salt, potassium sorbate and sodium propionate (preservatives) nonfat dry milk, dextrose.” More water than cherries? So that’s how they make their goo! Here is a sentence from a blog: “Modified food starches are used in a mind-boggling variety of products - luncheon meats, orange juice, baked goods, biofuels, bioplastics, and the list goes on. . . .” So THAT’S why we all want to nibble bioplastics! Another ingredient, palm oil, is discussed in a pdf download titled, “Cruel oil: how palm oil harms health, rainforests and wildlife.” Read it and weep. It does, at least, explain how this tiny dessert came to have a whopping 9 grams of saturated fat. My personal daily allowance of sat fat is 10 grams. And that baked cherry pie was not a good way to use up my quota. I’m beginning to feel a bit mean-spirited and critical. After all, table talk must, at its inception, have said to itself, “Let us try to insert a bit of tasty home cooking into the monotonous life of the long-distance traveler,” then run up against the vagaries of mass production. Maybe this is the best that can be done under the circumstances. But when far from home, in a 7/11 or service area, stricken by a NEED for a sweet treat—oh, yes. It’s Snickers, hands down.
Washington, DC was a whirlwind of concentrated activity, all very nourishing and satisfying. Upon return to Jersey, a wonderful field trip to a most-refreshing nature preserve restored my biobalance, and I was delighted to return to the search for a passable cherry pie. New Jersey rightly deserves the sobriquet, “The Garden State.” It is truly lovely, with tall, stately hardwoods gracing its gently rolling hills. The Palisade is a natural wonder that I could stare at for days on end. My own state is heavily forested, too, but with evergreens that offer darkness, not shade. Our hills are steep and challenging. Our tunnels of trees offer no vistas beyond the road’s edge. I love the eastern landscape. And so I did enormously enjoy our drive through one hamlet after another to Waldwick, and Matthew’s Colonial Diner.
Matthew’s Colonial Diner. Oak paneling and box-beam ceilings. Tasteful chandeliers, supplementing can lighting. Paned windows. Brick fireplace. A man cleaning the windows in the doors between the kitchen and the dining area. I mean, he was polishing that little window. So I looked at the floor, typically not a good idea. This floor was CLEAN. A clean, green carpet. Clean. Oak tables. Comfortable chairs. The waitress: dignity. Blonde hair, tastefully pulled back from her tawny face. Dark brown eyes. A touch of the cat, but controlled. Cool. Professional. We each chose from their ample menu a luncheon special, including a main dish, beverage and dessert. Mm-hm. Dessert. You can guess what I was thinking. But first, JerPie ordered a Florentine omelet, in which she detected a hint of dill, accompanied by home-fried potatoes. Better Half (BH) got a tuna sandwich on whole wheat, with slaw, while I opted for egg salad sandwich, identically accompanied. Those sandwiches were no less than 2 _ inches thick. Generous, homey, delicious sandwiches, not made out to be more than they were by the addition of way too much mayo. They were loaded with tuna and egg, respectively, with crisp lettuce for crunch. We each ate half, and took the second halves away with us. Matthew’s Colonial Diner was lookin’ good!
For dessert, BH chose strawberry ice cream and received a most generous serving. Jerpie took the brownie, but I’m telling you, that looked more like pure chocolate decadence with a walnut on top. This so-called brownie was fully 3 by 1 _ inches, probably more. It was a double-decker, more than 2 _ inches tall, with dark chocolate icing. JerPie declared it “the best brownie.” You probably know that that was high praise, indeed. And I? I asked if there was cherry pie. “Yes, but it’s not part of the lunch special,” says our serving person. I’ll have the cherry pie, and coffee, please, says I. I think my dessert was delivered somewhat proudly, with a wonderful, smiling, “Here you are, Darlin’.” and look at this!
Now, that’s presentation. That’s class. That’s diner pie???? Maybe in New Jersey. It’s fancy restaurant pie where I come from. Two florets of real whipped cream, a zigzag of raspberry puree, very pretty indeed. Ah, but let’s taste. Off comes the crust, and Jerpie detects a modicum of flakiness. Not like grandma used to make, but okay, it’s a commercial product. I like my crust sparkling with sugar, but this one was brushed with something shiny and sticky. I think that might be a regional preference. Is it milk? Egg white? Dunno. Cherry count: 17, which JerPie declares quite respectable. Taste: cherries are a good sweet/tart, flavorful mouthful. Matrix: Oh, no! Gelatinous goo which disrespects the cherries. It hints at refrigerator taste, it is cold, sweet and flavorless. This goo really has elastic strength, as proven by this photo, this forkful being held in place while I rummaged in my purse for my camera, removed it from its case, turned it on, aimed and shot, while that irascible loogy just hung there. That’s just not right!
To grasp the difference between goo and juice, may I respectfully refer you to the painting of “The Slice” at the top of this blog. Certainly, the juice must be thickened, and there are tapioca, cornstarch, and flour people. But the gelatinous goo we keep finding in bought pies must be the result of that Modified Food Starch that table talk confessed to. And I have a theory about the reason for that. My cherry pie, before baking, has cherries piled as high as the piepan can contain.
When baked, this mountain of fruit has settled down to the level of the top of the piepan. Can it be that filling a pie with gelatinous goo allows one to add cherries only up to the top of the piepan, knowing they can’t collapse, being held snugly in place by the goo? Perhaps an expert will check in on that score and elucidate us all.
Back to you, Jersey Pie. Thanks for the opportunity to contribute.
Love,
Mom
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Jersey Pie Road Trip III
Melick's Town Farm
Oldwick Farm Stand
170 Oldwick Road (523/517 North)
Oldwick, New Jersey 08858
Cherry Pie: $12.99
Our lazy summertime efforts at pie reporting led us into the great wild yonder of Jersey farmer's markets, where baked goodies take a back seat to grown goods. Having recently read with (unexpected) interest the succotash recipe in the Joy of Cooking, Jersey Pie found ourselves at Melick's farm stand, face to face with fresh, local lima beans. Had we known that they grew in big, fuzzy, friendly pods? Enamored, we shucked and jived all the way from Oldwick to Jersey City, east on I-78, releasing those gorgeous legumes from their pods while listening to a Michael Jackson tribute on the radio. Now, having tasted the genuine article, we would argue that a canned lima bean is an altogether different thing, and we champion any five-year-old shuckin and jivin before a plate of those pale, tasteless beans.
We brought home the fresh corn as well and an enormous red and yellow heirloom tomato to eat in slices with salt and pepper. And peaches. Melick's peaches may be the best in New Jersey. While selecting corn in our cleavage-revealing summer top, we were told this by a nice gentleman who was leaning over, choosing his corn. Unsure of whether his true subject of interest was cleavage or peaches, we are withholding our opinion, and jokingly refer to the reviewer as "Mr. Cornpeaches." Our supper of succotash and tomato was delicious. However, we have to confess that we suffered from the succotash and will henceforth substitute lowfat milk for the rich, reduced cream the recipe calls for.
And yes we had a pie. Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a winner. Melick's woven-lattice cherry pie is very, very good. The crust, oh, the crust, it was perfect. Crust is so important, as it rescues the sweetness of those jubilant cherries from falling headlong into sour or cloying. If we could convince our local diners to order their pies from Melick's, our cherry pie troubles would all be over. But Melick's charges a tad more than a pretty penny to transport their pies. Nota bene the mark-up you pay for buying your cherry pie at the Hoboken Farmer's Market, where HALF a pie sells for ELEVEN dollars! Sorry, but half of even a Melick's pie, even with its flaky pastry crust sprinkled with delightful sugar crystals, even with its tart Michigan cherries, even with its perfect fruit to crust ratio that allows even a sliver of pie to have a fruit filling, is not worth ELEVEN dollars!! We could not, would not, never will pay it.
While we've enjoyed our trips to the hinterland of Jersey for alternative pie sources, our quest is for a good old slice of pie and cup of Joe at a local eatery, so don't un-follow Jersey Pie yet. We will return to our diner-diving ways once the farm stands close, some time in the autumn. If you prefer our ranting and raving (about the poor local choices) to our engorged, ecstatic prose (about the farmer's markets) ... we'll be back. In addition, we have a first, a guest blogger who recently sampled the pie at Matthew's Colonial Diner in Waldwick, so check back soon!
Oldwick Farm Stand
170 Oldwick Road (523/517 North)
Oldwick, New Jersey 08858
Cherry Pie: $12.99
Our lazy summertime efforts at pie reporting led us into the great wild yonder of Jersey farmer's markets, where baked goodies take a back seat to grown goods. Having recently read with (unexpected) interest the succotash recipe in the Joy of Cooking, Jersey Pie found ourselves at Melick's farm stand, face to face with fresh, local lima beans. Had we known that they grew in big, fuzzy, friendly pods? Enamored, we shucked and jived all the way from Oldwick to Jersey City, east on I-78, releasing those gorgeous legumes from their pods while listening to a Michael Jackson tribute on the radio. Now, having tasted the genuine article, we would argue that a canned lima bean is an altogether different thing, and we champion any five-year-old shuckin and jivin before a plate of those pale, tasteless beans.
We brought home the fresh corn as well and an enormous red and yellow heirloom tomato to eat in slices with salt and pepper. And peaches. Melick's peaches may be the best in New Jersey. While selecting corn in our cleavage-revealing summer top, we were told this by a nice gentleman who was leaning over, choosing his corn. Unsure of whether his true subject of interest was cleavage or peaches, we are withholding our opinion, and jokingly refer to the reviewer as "Mr. Cornpeaches." Our supper of succotash and tomato was delicious. However, we have to confess that we suffered from the succotash and will henceforth substitute lowfat milk for the rich, reduced cream the recipe calls for.
And yes we had a pie. Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a winner. Melick's woven-lattice cherry pie is very, very good. The crust, oh, the crust, it was perfect. Crust is so important, as it rescues the sweetness of those jubilant cherries from falling headlong into sour or cloying. If we could convince our local diners to order their pies from Melick's, our cherry pie troubles would all be over. But Melick's charges a tad more than a pretty penny to transport their pies. Nota bene the mark-up you pay for buying your cherry pie at the Hoboken Farmer's Market, where HALF a pie sells for ELEVEN dollars! Sorry, but half of even a Melick's pie, even with its flaky pastry crust sprinkled with delightful sugar crystals, even with its tart Michigan cherries, even with its perfect fruit to crust ratio that allows even a sliver of pie to have a fruit filling, is not worth ELEVEN dollars!! We could not, would not, never will pay it.
While we've enjoyed our trips to the hinterland of Jersey for alternative pie sources, our quest is for a good old slice of pie and cup of Joe at a local eatery, so don't un-follow Jersey Pie yet. We will return to our diner-diving ways once the farm stands close, some time in the autumn. If you prefer our ranting and raving (about the poor local choices) to our engorged, ecstatic prose (about the farmer's markets) ... we'll be back. In addition, we have a first, a guest blogger who recently sampled the pie at Matthew's Colonial Diner in Waldwick, so check back soon!
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Jersey Pie Road Trip II, State of Maine
If you find yourself within 2 states of Maine, you owe it to yourself to have breakfast at 2 Cats in Bar Harbor. Our meal was ludicrously delicious. It began with a mug of Equal Exchange coffee, then purred into a Summer Scramble: eggs, tomatoes, onions, and herbs grown on the premises. Spicy home fries and fresh baked bread with a garnish of cantaloupe and kiwi completed the plate, but don't let us forget the butter. Butter you say? Yes, the butter. Strawberry butter. That's what we're talkin' about. The service was as nourishing as the meal, superb.
After breakfast, if you still feel worthy, if the heights of excellence attained by your 2 Cats breakfast haven't blown you completely away, roll out onto US Route 1 heading south, and just about lunch time you will be in Waldboro, where really, oh, yes, really, you should pull off the road at Moody's Diner. If 2 Cats is ludicrously delicious, Moody's is insane. You will want to ravage yourself, dress up in a monkey suit, run down the highway shouting, "this is what life is supposed to be like," and then fall down in a heap weeping when you taste that PIE. We set the stage with a CheeLT, (That's a cheese, lettuce, and tomato sandwich.) a bowl of home made corn chowder, and a home made biscuit. Yum.
While we ate, the waitress walked by with a tray of pies for a table of six nearby. She did so casually, not at all telegraphing the superlative bounty she controlled. But we could hear those little slices giggling and singing. They know what they are: fresh, sweet, and made to please from recipes handed down through generations of pride and love.
Maine is a blueberry pie state, not a cherry pie state. Moody's does not bake a cherry pie. So, to honor Maine we ordered the blueberry, and to honor our friend P--also a recent commenter on Jersey Pie, and the painter of our beautiful logo--we ordered lemon meringue. Let's start with the meringue, the perfect, toasted-marshmellow-tan peaks, the white, fluffy, angel-flounce dream waves of sweet whipped fantasy puff, the melt-in-your-mouth goodness. And then, let's move onto the lemon, the vivacious, assertive, easter-yellow sweet and sour counterpoint to the diaphanous paradox that is meringue. Of course, you already know the crust is simple, flour-butter-and-salt perfection.
And now the fruit pie. First we observe that it is juicy. Its juice is running out over the crust onto the plate, the deep, purple-blue life blood of the blueberry is freeing itself exuberantly. There is little or no thickening agent in evidence. (Hello, New Jersey.) And there are scores and scores of the relatively smallish Maine blueberries packed into their perfect crust. It is a FRUIT pie. It is a serving of fruit delightfully presented as pie--how clever!--and we would like to say, thank you. Or, oh?! (interrobang) maybe that is what fruit pie is supposed to be?!
Ah, to sit at the table of a cook whose mission is to nourish your body and delight your senses. Reader, you simply must... every chance you get.
After breakfast, if you still feel worthy, if the heights of excellence attained by your 2 Cats breakfast haven't blown you completely away, roll out onto US Route 1 heading south, and just about lunch time you will be in Waldboro, where really, oh, yes, really, you should pull off the road at Moody's Diner. If 2 Cats is ludicrously delicious, Moody's is insane. You will want to ravage yourself, dress up in a monkey suit, run down the highway shouting, "this is what life is supposed to be like," and then fall down in a heap weeping when you taste that PIE. We set the stage with a CheeLT, (That's a cheese, lettuce, and tomato sandwich.) a bowl of home made corn chowder, and a home made biscuit. Yum.
While we ate, the waitress walked by with a tray of pies for a table of six nearby. She did so casually, not at all telegraphing the superlative bounty she controlled. But we could hear those little slices giggling and singing. They know what they are: fresh, sweet, and made to please from recipes handed down through generations of pride and love.
Maine is a blueberry pie state, not a cherry pie state. Moody's does not bake a cherry pie. So, to honor Maine we ordered the blueberry, and to honor our friend P--also a recent commenter on Jersey Pie, and the painter of our beautiful logo--we ordered lemon meringue. Let's start with the meringue, the perfect, toasted-marshmellow-tan peaks, the white, fluffy, angel-flounce dream waves of sweet whipped fantasy puff, the melt-in-your-mouth goodness. And then, let's move onto the lemon, the vivacious, assertive, easter-yellow sweet and sour counterpoint to the diaphanous paradox that is meringue. Of course, you already know the crust is simple, flour-butter-and-salt perfection.
And now the fruit pie. First we observe that it is juicy. Its juice is running out over the crust onto the plate, the deep, purple-blue life blood of the blueberry is freeing itself exuberantly. There is little or no thickening agent in evidence. (Hello, New Jersey.) And there are scores and scores of the relatively smallish Maine blueberries packed into their perfect crust. It is a FRUIT pie. It is a serving of fruit delightfully presented as pie--how clever!--and we would like to say, thank you. Or, oh?! (interrobang) maybe that is what fruit pie is supposed to be?!
Ah, to sit at the table of a cook whose mission is to nourish your body and delight your senses. Reader, you simply must... every chance you get.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Starbucks
Cheery Cherry Pie $2.09
Cheery .. Cherry .. Pie. It's come to this. We heard about Cheery Cherry Pie in New York and wondered if it was worth checking in Hoboken. Could there be a Jersey Cheery Cherry Pie? Or is this local to NYC? Not at all. Turns out there are Cheery Cherry Pies gracing pastry cases from coast to coast at Starbucks. Yep, you heard it. And here's what Jersey Pie thinks. We think that Starbucks bigwigs are reading Jersey Pie, and, one day at high Starbucks muckety-muck headquarters, the visionaries were gathered together envisioning the next BIG THING, and, of course, at the top of everyone's list was Jersey Pie's quest for the best cherry pie, and they hotly conspired to knock this one out of the park. Then they named it Cheery Cherry Pie.
Okay, so how is it? Simply put, it's a good pie. There. We admitted it. In fact, we find ourselves wanting another one as soon as possible. Did we want it to be good? Sure, well, sort of... well, maybe not. Maybe we wanted it to fit into our tirade about widget food. We have been working on a notion that attention and intention are important ingredients.
But maybe widget food can be good food, too. Starbucks has recently made some decisions about their ingredients with which Jersey Pie approves:
In addition to its rainbow-in-the-sky moniker, a Cheery Cherry Pie has cherries, flour (wheat flour, malted barley flour, niacin, iron, thiamine mononitrate, riboflavin, folic acid), butter (cream [from milk]), sugar, palm oil shortening, water, wheat flour, starch, sugar, apple cider vinegar, whole eggs, sea salt, sodium alginate, calcium sulfate, lemon juice, egg whites.
(Well?)
We had to get another one to help remember the experience. And we didn't regret it. Then the third Cheery Cherry Pie was just as good as the first two. They've overcome the individual pie pitfall of too much crust by folding four corners of a pastry square over the top so the crust doesn't quite go all the way around. Oh, what a clever mega-corp! Believe it or not, it is now Starbucks that is setting the bar for the best cherry pie in New Jersey. Oh, we do hate to say it. But wait! Let's return for a moment to attention and intention.
Let us say that Starbucks has fed us the best TASTING cherry pie in New Jersey. And let us ask, "Is that enough?" Our conscience still has questions about the Cheery Cherry Pie. (Where is it produced? How is it distributed? What is the carbon footprint? How are the workers treated? Where do they get their cherries? How are the cherry pickers treated?) Ever since seeing Food, Inc. we have felt we cannot go in with one hand over our eyes and another hand shoveling cherry pies into our gompers. Before we bestow the blue ribbon, we want to know what our $2.09 is supporting. We want our cherry pie to be truly .. Cheery.
Cheery .. Cherry .. Pie. It's come to this. We heard about Cheery Cherry Pie in New York and wondered if it was worth checking in Hoboken. Could there be a Jersey Cheery Cherry Pie? Or is this local to NYC? Not at all. Turns out there are Cheery Cherry Pies gracing pastry cases from coast to coast at Starbucks. Yep, you heard it. And here's what Jersey Pie thinks. We think that Starbucks bigwigs are reading Jersey Pie, and, one day at high Starbucks muckety-muck headquarters, the visionaries were gathered together envisioning the next BIG THING, and, of course, at the top of everyone's list was Jersey Pie's quest for the best cherry pie, and they hotly conspired to knock this one out of the park. Then they named it Cheery Cherry Pie.
Okay, so how is it? Simply put, it's a good pie. There. We admitted it. In fact, we find ourselves wanting another one as soon as possible. Did we want it to be good? Sure, well, sort of... well, maybe not. Maybe we wanted it to fit into our tirade about widget food. We have been working on a notion that attention and intention are important ingredients.
But maybe widget food can be good food, too. Starbucks has recently made some decisions about their ingredients with which Jersey Pie approves:
- No artificial flavors
- No artificial trans fats
- No artificial dyes
- No high-fructose corn syrup
In addition to its rainbow-in-the-sky moniker, a Cheery Cherry Pie has cherries, flour (wheat flour, malted barley flour, niacin, iron, thiamine mononitrate, riboflavin, folic acid), butter (cream [from milk]), sugar, palm oil shortening, water, wheat flour, starch, sugar, apple cider vinegar, whole eggs, sea salt, sodium alginate, calcium sulfate, lemon juice, egg whites.
(Well?)
We had to get another one to help remember the experience. And we didn't regret it. Then the third Cheery Cherry Pie was just as good as the first two. They've overcome the individual pie pitfall of too much crust by folding four corners of a pastry square over the top so the crust doesn't quite go all the way around. Oh, what a clever mega-corp! Believe it or not, it is now Starbucks that is setting the bar for the best cherry pie in New Jersey. Oh, we do hate to say it. But wait! Let's return for a moment to attention and intention.
Let us say that Starbucks has fed us the best TASTING cherry pie in New Jersey. And let us ask, "Is that enough?" Our conscience still has questions about the Cheery Cherry Pie. (Where is it produced? How is it distributed? What is the carbon footprint? How are the workers treated? Where do they get their cherries? How are the cherry pickers treated?) Ever since seeing Food, Inc. we have felt we cannot go in with one hand over our eyes and another hand shoveling cherry pies into our gompers. Before we bestow the blue ribbon, we want to know what our $2.09 is supporting. We want our cherry pie to be truly .. Cheery.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Jersey Pie Road Trip 1
Delicious Orchards
320 Route 34 South
Colts Neck, NJ 07722
Cherry Pie: $10.99
Summer at the New Jersey farm stand is shaping up to be a rewarding side trip for us diner diving folks here at Jersey Pie. We drove down from the city to a quaint little farm store named Delicious Orchards, where, we were told, real old fashioned pies were to be found. When we left we actually had an assortment of desserts in addition to a whole cherry pie, which we brought home to share with M. Slices were dealt, followed by nods, grunts and raised eyebrows. The concensus: Now we're getting somewhere! That's a good pie!! What a flaky pastry crust! What tasty, tart cherries! If we had been served this at any diner we'd have called it an unqualified success. But wait, this is supposed to be a farm fresh pie. We've sampled so many (bad ones) that we're not sure of the criteria. This pie... Well, the matrix was a little sweet for our taste. That's not necessarily a complaint, possibly just a personal preference. But we were a little suspicious. We gave Delicious Orchards a call to see if the cherry pie was high fructose corn syrup (HFCS) sweetened. It wasn't. Maybe we are getting paranoid about our food after seeing Food, Inc.. Its pretty scary. Generally we don't go for fear-mongering (unless we can get behind it, we guess), but it's worth checking out. Maybe it's not showing in your neck of the woods, so here are some of the interesting points, in case you don't get around to it.
One likely ingredient in mass-produced pie filling (cherries + goo) is HFCS. That will serve as our cherry pie tie-in. We have been trying to avoid HFCS and partially hydrogenated oil. We heard HFCS is linked to the obesity epidemic, then we heard not, but hey, do we have to eat it? We don't even remember what's wrong with partially hydrogenated oil... free radicals? No, that's us... Anyhoo, we've decided against them. That pretty much rules out the cookie aisle. These days, most processed food contains HFCS. We learned from the movie this is just one of a large fistful of products made from corn, some of which have wormed their way into our cravings through processed foods.
If you should pop high fructose corn syrup into a popular search engine, the first hit will be a delightful little website called Sweet Surprise. This website is the property of the Corn Refiners Association, who also funds the studies that present high fructose corn syrup in a positive light. (That last link will take you to a fun YouTube spoof of other Corn Refiners Association efforts.) Hopefully we will not be slapped with a food libel lawsuit for making fun of the Corn Refiners Association. It cost Oprah a million dollars to work her way out of one of these when she declared on television that she wanted to be sure she wasn't eating Mad Cow Diseased beef.
Defenders of high fructose corn syrup are employing a curious argument. They state that HFCS is no worse than table sugar. We here at Jersey Pie would like to know, is everyone else in America like 12 years old or something? How is that an argument? Those of us who grew up in the 1960s remember Sugar Smacks (mmmm). We also remember a day when, suddenly, folks were not so keen on foods whose first ingredient was sugar. Sugar Smacks was renamed Honey Smacks in the '80s to address this consumer trend, but it still contains more than 50% sugar by weight. So, the score is Kellogg's 2, Consumers 0. We predict the next move in the hide the sugar game will be to stop listing "high fructose corn syrup" and start listing its components: glucose and sucrose. We'll be sure to alert you when we find out!
Just one more corny point we'd like to make before signing off. Agent Orange producer Monsanto engineered some seeds that were resistant to their heavy duty pesticide Round Up. Engineering allows them to patent the seeds. Patented seeds allow Monsanto to sue farmers for patent infringement if pollen from their seeds spread onto crops on neighboring farms. Yup. They are really doing this. The crops Monsanto has engineered include corn, soy, sugar beets, and canola. Buying organic allows you to avoid these genetically engineered, patented foods. Just sayin'.
Our Delicious Orchards cherry pie was not organic but did not have HFCS. What more could we ask? Take a look as we plate our slices while Chip and Flip sing our theme song. Turn up the sound and enjoy.
320 Route 34 South
Colts Neck, NJ 07722
Cherry Pie: $10.99
Summer at the New Jersey farm stand is shaping up to be a rewarding side trip for us diner diving folks here at Jersey Pie. We drove down from the city to a quaint little farm store named Delicious Orchards, where, we were told, real old fashioned pies were to be found. When we left we actually had an assortment of desserts in addition to a whole cherry pie, which we brought home to share with M. Slices were dealt, followed by nods, grunts and raised eyebrows. The concensus: Now we're getting somewhere! That's a good pie!! What a flaky pastry crust! What tasty, tart cherries! If we had been served this at any diner we'd have called it an unqualified success. But wait, this is supposed to be a farm fresh pie. We've sampled so many (bad ones) that we're not sure of the criteria. This pie... Well, the matrix was a little sweet for our taste. That's not necessarily a complaint, possibly just a personal preference. But we were a little suspicious. We gave Delicious Orchards a call to see if the cherry pie was high fructose corn syrup (HFCS) sweetened. It wasn't. Maybe we are getting paranoid about our food after seeing Food, Inc.. Its pretty scary. Generally we don't go for fear-mongering (unless we can get behind it, we guess), but it's worth checking out. Maybe it's not showing in your neck of the woods, so here are some of the interesting points, in case you don't get around to it.
One likely ingredient in mass-produced pie filling (cherries + goo) is HFCS. That will serve as our cherry pie tie-in. We have been trying to avoid HFCS and partially hydrogenated oil. We heard HFCS is linked to the obesity epidemic, then we heard not, but hey, do we have to eat it? We don't even remember what's wrong with partially hydrogenated oil... free radicals? No, that's us... Anyhoo, we've decided against them. That pretty much rules out the cookie aisle. These days, most processed food contains HFCS. We learned from the movie this is just one of a large fistful of products made from corn, some of which have wormed their way into our cravings through processed foods.
If you should pop high fructose corn syrup into a popular search engine, the first hit will be a delightful little website called Sweet Surprise. This website is the property of the Corn Refiners Association, who also funds the studies that present high fructose corn syrup in a positive light. (That last link will take you to a fun YouTube spoof of other Corn Refiners Association efforts.) Hopefully we will not be slapped with a food libel lawsuit for making fun of the Corn Refiners Association. It cost Oprah a million dollars to work her way out of one of these when she declared on television that she wanted to be sure she wasn't eating Mad Cow Diseased beef.
Defenders of high fructose corn syrup are employing a curious argument. They state that HFCS is no worse than table sugar. We here at Jersey Pie would like to know, is everyone else in America like 12 years old or something? How is that an argument? Those of us who grew up in the 1960s remember Sugar Smacks (mmmm). We also remember a day when, suddenly, folks were not so keen on foods whose first ingredient was sugar. Sugar Smacks was renamed Honey Smacks in the '80s to address this consumer trend, but it still contains more than 50% sugar by weight. So, the score is Kellogg's 2, Consumers 0. We predict the next move in the hide the sugar game will be to stop listing "high fructose corn syrup" and start listing its components: glucose and sucrose. We'll be sure to alert you when we find out!
Just one more corny point we'd like to make before signing off. Agent Orange producer Monsanto engineered some seeds that were resistant to their heavy duty pesticide Round Up. Engineering allows them to patent the seeds. Patented seeds allow Monsanto to sue farmers for patent infringement if pollen from their seeds spread onto crops on neighboring farms. Yup. They are really doing this. The crops Monsanto has engineered include corn, soy, sugar beets, and canola. Buying organic allows you to avoid these genetically engineered, patented foods. Just sayin'.
Our Delicious Orchards cherry pie was not organic but did not have HFCS. What more could we ask? Take a look as we plate our slices while Chip and Flip sing our theme song. Turn up the sound and enjoy.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
MinuteMan Family Restaurant, Morristown
990 Mount Kemble Ave.
Morristown, NJ 07960
Small Cherry Pie (for 2): $4.95
Coffee: $1.25
It's funny when you really notice how things happen, how one thing leads to another. Last week's blog entry ended with a vintage New York Times article about a New Jersey Pie Shop robbery. The phrase "jersey pie shop" seemed like a "well, duh" key word search for a blog called Jersey Pie. The "jersey pie shop" key word search did turn up this interesting item: Minuteman Restaurant and Pie Shop.
Add to that, Jersey Pie received its first hate mail this week. An advocate for the Jubilee Park Diner wants to know whether we don't have anything better to do, and why are we so damn cheap (in so many words). So, maybe we were feeling doubly disinclined to return to the Jersey diner-scape. First because the cherry pie sucks, and doubly because now they hate us. Anyhoo, we headed out to the Minuteman where we could pick up a whole, fresh-baked cherry pie if we wanted to, and bring it home to eat with a cup of our own fresh ground coffee.
The Minuteman menu describes the origins of their Country Pie Shop. In a nutshell: they decided to sell pie. They give the sequence in which the different pies became available, first apple, then blueberry, cherry, and pecan. 1979 is when they started selling cherry pie, and that's all we need to know here at Jersey Pie. That's 30 years of baking experience. It's just got to be delicious, doesn't it? We had called ahead to make sure they had a cherry pie. By the time we got there they had sold it (sound of needle scratching across the vinyl). Cancel that vision of us sitting at home eating pie with a steaming mug of homemade brew. They did have a small cherry pie for us though, so we sat under the outsider art in the red-barn motif restaurant, sipped their pretty good cup of decaf, and ate the best cherry pie we have found on our quest. Don't un-follow Jersey Pie yet, though...
When the waitress asked us whether we wanted our pie heated with ice-cream, we consulted on the ice-cream then said "no." She took our meaning so far as the ice-cream goes, but, when, not long after that, we heard a "ding," we knew she had nuked our pie, the last cherry pie in the joint. Our hearts sank. Make no mistake, we ARE recommending the Minuteman cherry pie; it IS the BEST pie we have tasted so far. However, that had to be gleaned through the unfortunate effects of the nuking. The very, very flaky pastry was made soggy and a tad rubbery. The filling was scalding hot. But we ate every bite. Yum. It was delicious. And here's a heads up to all you Jersey diners out there: cherry pie does not have to be full of goo! This cherry pie was juicy, tart, and lightly sweet. Its juices had soaked into the pastry and burbled over the lip of the crust and burned a bit, just a bit, in a good way. As far as the whole mini-pie, small pie concept is concerned, however, Jersey Pie is voting "no." It's just too much crust.
While we were not totally disappointed, we agreed (with the help of some word deconstruction) that perhaps we could not honestly say that we were really "appointed." As we rolled back toward Jersey City over NJ-24 E we reflected on all the pies-sibilities represented by the road signs, the white on green beacons guiding drivers back home, to work, or maybe to cherry pie: Caldwell, Livingston, Chatham, Summit. But those slices will have to wait, for these pie hounds are howling farewell to slices and coffee, at least for the summer. No, we aren't so thin-skinned that we can't take a little hate mail. Jersey Pie will be busy this summer tracking down home-baked, farm-fresh cherry pies from farm stands and blogging about them. Mmmmmmm. Jealous much? And in case you are reading along and haven't recommended your favorite Jersey pie place yet, please chime in! We want to hear from our readers in other states about their cherry pies, too. Send us a comment! We love you all, and we'll be blogging to you soon, direct from a Jersey farm stand.
Morristown, NJ 07960
Small Cherry Pie (for 2): $4.95
Coffee: $1.25
It's funny when you really notice how things happen, how one thing leads to another. Last week's blog entry ended with a vintage New York Times article about a New Jersey Pie Shop robbery. The phrase "jersey pie shop" seemed like a "well, duh" key word search for a blog called Jersey Pie. The "jersey pie shop" key word search did turn up this interesting item: Minuteman Restaurant and Pie Shop.
Add to that, Jersey Pie received its first hate mail this week. An advocate for the Jubilee Park Diner wants to know whether we don't have anything better to do, and why are we so damn cheap (in so many words). So, maybe we were feeling doubly disinclined to return to the Jersey diner-scape. First because the cherry pie sucks, and doubly because now they hate us. Anyhoo, we headed out to the Minuteman where we could pick up a whole, fresh-baked cherry pie if we wanted to, and bring it home to eat with a cup of our own fresh ground coffee.
The Minuteman menu describes the origins of their Country Pie Shop. In a nutshell: they decided to sell pie. They give the sequence in which the different pies became available, first apple, then blueberry, cherry, and pecan. 1979 is when they started selling cherry pie, and that's all we need to know here at Jersey Pie. That's 30 years of baking experience. It's just got to be delicious, doesn't it? We had called ahead to make sure they had a cherry pie. By the time we got there they had sold it (sound of needle scratching across the vinyl). Cancel that vision of us sitting at home eating pie with a steaming mug of homemade brew. They did have a small cherry pie for us though, so we sat under the outsider art in the red-barn motif restaurant, sipped their pretty good cup of decaf, and ate the best cherry pie we have found on our quest. Don't un-follow Jersey Pie yet, though...
When the waitress asked us whether we wanted our pie heated with ice-cream, we consulted on the ice-cream then said "no." She took our meaning so far as the ice-cream goes, but, when, not long after that, we heard a "ding," we knew she had nuked our pie, the last cherry pie in the joint. Our hearts sank. Make no mistake, we ARE recommending the Minuteman cherry pie; it IS the BEST pie we have tasted so far. However, that had to be gleaned through the unfortunate effects of the nuking. The very, very flaky pastry was made soggy and a tad rubbery. The filling was scalding hot. But we ate every bite. Yum. It was delicious. And here's a heads up to all you Jersey diners out there: cherry pie does not have to be full of goo! This cherry pie was juicy, tart, and lightly sweet. Its juices had soaked into the pastry and burbled over the lip of the crust and burned a bit, just a bit, in a good way. As far as the whole mini-pie, small pie concept is concerned, however, Jersey Pie is voting "no." It's just too much crust.
While we were not totally disappointed, we agreed (with the help of some word deconstruction) that perhaps we could not honestly say that we were really "appointed." As we rolled back toward Jersey City over NJ-24 E we reflected on all the pies-sibilities represented by the road signs, the white on green beacons guiding drivers back home, to work, or maybe to cherry pie: Caldwell, Livingston, Chatham, Summit. But those slices will have to wait, for these pie hounds are howling farewell to slices and coffee, at least for the summer. No, we aren't so thin-skinned that we can't take a little hate mail. Jersey Pie will be busy this summer tracking down home-baked, farm-fresh cherry pies from farm stands and blogging about them. Mmmmmmm. Jealous much? And in case you are reading along and haven't recommended your favorite Jersey pie place yet, please chime in! We want to hear from our readers in other states about their cherry pies, too. Send us a comment! We love you all, and we'll be blogging to you soon, direct from a Jersey farm stand.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Legends Diner, Secaucus
130 County Avenue
Secaucus, NJ 07094
Cherry Pie: $2.75
Coffee: $1.15 Fuhgeddaboudit. Best diner coffee in da state. It's not getting any better. Go ahead and drink it black.
Ran out to Home Depot in Secaucus on Wednesday for a new set of house keys. Jersey Pie was literally at a loss on Tuesday due to a traffic court date. But we were victorious. The judge accepted our argument that the Parking Authority should not have been enforcing alternate side parking and handing out parking tickets like tickets to the prom after posting Emergency: No Parking signs all over town. We won the court case but lost the house keys, so it was off to H.D. for new ones. While in Secaucus we reconnoitered Legends Diner.
Legends Diner couldn't possibly be more adorable. It's a classic, gleaming chrome diner with a working clock crowning its glory, and eight blooming rose bushes add their charm to the entry. When we returned for pie on Friday, birds were peeping their sunset song, and we fell right into a diner swoon. Sheer perfection, interrupted only momentarily by an icy blast of AC in the vestibule. Was this a foreshadowing of doom?
It didn't seem so when we ogled the dessert case and were bowled over by their genius solution to the refrigerator burn problem you have heard about so many times here on Jersey Pie. It is so simple, so easy. We looked at it and suddenly all of life's problems seemed solvable. Legends has innovated a system of 4 X 4 inch squares of rigid, clear plastic abutting the exposed edges of all their displayed desserts. Wow! Simply elegant!
Unfortunately, we can't recommend actually eating at Legends Diner. The food was beyond crappy. We think they gave the (chef?) the evening off and let the dishwasher do the cooking. And, they failed to employ their own dessert-butting method to the cherry pie! There was 3/4 C of hardened, tasteless matrix on one edge of our slice, and the rest of it was also nearly inedible in all the old familiar ways. The crust looked like a Cub Scout badge project! They call it Legends because 8 X 10 b&w glossies of celebrities adorn just about every inch of available space in the place. Our booth was surrounded by The Munsters, Gary Cooper, Lynda Carter, Stan Musial, Shirley Temple, Lucille Ball, and Sinatra and Kelly. When we sat down we were cheered by their legendary faces. But as we took one last glance back at them we felt a bit sad, their eyes seeming to say, "Don't leave us like this, don't go...." (Fred Gwynne and Yvonne DeCarlo notwithstanding). They're hanging there right now, looking down, perplexed. We may go back to see them again and have some of that coffee. Could Legends possibly screw up breakfast?
As possible evidence that New Jersey has a long history of disregard for good pie, we submit verbatim the following item, an article we came across while perusing the archives of the New York Times:
Jersey Pie Shop Robbed
Special to The New York Times
Copyright c. The New York Times
Elizabeth, N.J., Oct. 30, 1958--
Intruders, who apparently worked with a
truck or a car, broke into the Jones Pie Shop
on Route 1 here early today. They carted off
a 200-pound safe, containing $500 in cash,
the police reported. They ignored hundreds
of freshly baked pies.
Secaucus, NJ 07094
Cherry Pie: $2.75
Coffee: $1.15 Fuhgeddaboudit. Best diner coffee in da state. It's not getting any better. Go ahead and drink it black.
Ran out to Home Depot in Secaucus on Wednesday for a new set of house keys. Jersey Pie was literally at a loss on Tuesday due to a traffic court date. But we were victorious. The judge accepted our argument that the Parking Authority should not have been enforcing alternate side parking and handing out parking tickets like tickets to the prom after posting Emergency: No Parking signs all over town. We won the court case but lost the house keys, so it was off to H.D. for new ones. While in Secaucus we reconnoitered Legends Diner.
Legends Diner couldn't possibly be more adorable. It's a classic, gleaming chrome diner with a working clock crowning its glory, and eight blooming rose bushes add their charm to the entry. When we returned for pie on Friday, birds were peeping their sunset song, and we fell right into a diner swoon. Sheer perfection, interrupted only momentarily by an icy blast of AC in the vestibule. Was this a foreshadowing of doom?
It didn't seem so when we ogled the dessert case and were bowled over by their genius solution to the refrigerator burn problem you have heard about so many times here on Jersey Pie. It is so simple, so easy. We looked at it and suddenly all of life's problems seemed solvable. Legends has innovated a system of 4 X 4 inch squares of rigid, clear plastic abutting the exposed edges of all their displayed desserts. Wow! Simply elegant!
Unfortunately, we can't recommend actually eating at Legends Diner. The food was beyond crappy. We think they gave the (chef?) the evening off and let the dishwasher do the cooking. And, they failed to employ their own dessert-butting method to the cherry pie! There was 3/4 C of hardened, tasteless matrix on one edge of our slice, and the rest of it was also nearly inedible in all the old familiar ways. The crust looked like a Cub Scout badge project! They call it Legends because 8 X 10 b&w glossies of celebrities adorn just about every inch of available space in the place. Our booth was surrounded by The Munsters, Gary Cooper, Lynda Carter, Stan Musial, Shirley Temple, Lucille Ball, and Sinatra and Kelly. When we sat down we were cheered by their legendary faces. But as we took one last glance back at them we felt a bit sad, their eyes seeming to say, "Don't leave us like this, don't go...." (Fred Gwynne and Yvonne DeCarlo notwithstanding). They're hanging there right now, looking down, perplexed. We may go back to see them again and have some of that coffee. Could Legends possibly screw up breakfast?
As possible evidence that New Jersey has a long history of disregard for good pie, we submit verbatim the following item, an article we came across while perusing the archives of the New York Times:
Jersey Pie Shop Robbed
Special to The New York Times
Copyright c. The New York Times
Elizabeth, N.J., Oct. 30, 1958--
Intruders, who apparently worked with a
truck or a car, broke into the Jones Pie Shop
on Route 1 here early today. They carted off
a 200-pound safe, containing $500 in cash,
the police reported. They ignored hundreds
of freshly baked pies.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Versailles Diner, Fairfield
398 US 46
Fairfield, NJ 07004
Cherry Pie, $3.50
Coffee, $1.25
Ode to Fair Plainness
Passion for pie and sensing fruitlessness,
Our New York friend M. crosses the Hudson;
Conspiring with her now to locate bliss
From fruit-filled pies that would win a ribbon,
To Fairfield, New Jersey on 280's
Mass of concrete, through the Caldwells, past Or-
anges, we drive together in Chevy's
Practical, 2001 Prizm for
Thirty minutes, no more, hoping to ease,
At the Versailles Diner (not Versai-eeze!),
A self-inflicted mania for "best."
Who would behold our waitress and ask more
Cleavage, flattery, or wit, must be blind
To simple service, an everyday reward;
Wallflower at the whirling dance of mind,
Rhythm of menu, order, serve us - sleep
Drowsed with the fume of hope pies. A good look
Reveals the virtues of glasses, focal powers,
And time not spent making-up for a beep
From some guy who for all we know's a crook;
Rather: iceberg, chicken, burgers, and coke;
Clockwork, plain, goodness, twenty-four hours.
And the cherry pie, we saw it rotate
(Think not of pie, your dinner is good too,
While French fries, and coleslaw yet grace your plate,
And touch your stubborn chins with greasy hue;
Perhaps it's not for cherry pie you're born
Though dreaming after pie keeps souls aloft
And flaky pastry calls to spirits, "rise!"
Though mouths brim full of cherries cannot mourn,
And songs of sweetness' praises are heard oft,)
And maybe it is "best" that should be scoffed;
That Versailles waitress serves good cherry pies.
Fairfield, NJ 07004
Cherry Pie, $3.50
Coffee, $1.25
Ode to Fair Plainness
Passion for pie and sensing fruitlessness,
Our New York friend M. crosses the Hudson;
Conspiring with her now to locate bliss
From fruit-filled pies that would win a ribbon,
To Fairfield, New Jersey on 280's
Mass of concrete, through the Caldwells, past Or-
anges, we drive together in Chevy's
Practical, 2001 Prizm for
Thirty minutes, no more, hoping to ease,
At the Versailles Diner (not Versai-eeze!),
A self-inflicted mania for "best."
Who would behold our waitress and ask more
Cleavage, flattery, or wit, must be blind
To simple service, an everyday reward;
Wallflower at the whirling dance of mind,
Rhythm of menu, order, serve us - sleep
Drowsed with the fume of hope pies. A good look
Reveals the virtues of glasses, focal powers,
And time not spent making-up for a beep
From some guy who for all we know's a crook;
Rather: iceberg, chicken, burgers, and coke;
Clockwork, plain, goodness, twenty-four hours.
And the cherry pie, we saw it rotate
(Think not of pie, your dinner is good too,
While French fries, and coleslaw yet grace your plate,
And touch your stubborn chins with greasy hue;
Perhaps it's not for cherry pie you're born
Though dreaming after pie keeps souls aloft
And flaky pastry calls to spirits, "rise!"
Though mouths brim full of cherries cannot mourn,
And songs of sweetness' praises are heard oft,)
And maybe it is "best" that should be scoffed;
That Versailles waitress serves good cherry pies.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Nutley Diner, Nutley
372 Centre Street
Nutley, NJ 07110
Pie $ don't know
Coffee $ too much for this so-so cup o' Joe
For those of you just joining us here at Jersey Pie, we offer a quick review of our efforts thus far. After sampling the mediocre cherry pie offered by our local diner we decided to begin a search - chronicled in a blog - for the best cherry pie and coffee in New Jersey. Little did we know we had entered a nightmare world of refrigerator burn, coagulated goo, irascible boogers, high fructose corn syrup, and widget pies. Along the way we did get some pretty good cherry pie at the Bendix Diner (where the crust is too dense), some darn good cherry pie at the Tom Sawyer Diner (where the crust is not quite flaky), and what we think was probably very good cherry pie at the Jubilee Park Diner (where a mop bucket of bleach water overpowered our taste buds.) Six months later, we're still looking for New Jersey's best piece of cherry pie. Which brings us to the self-proclaimed #1 diner in the state.
Jersey Pie experienced a vision in the parking lot of the Nutley Diner, but it wasn't a vision of pie. It looked more like a Belgian waffle with strawberries and whipped cream. Now a lunch of waffles with cherry pie for dessert is not at all sensible, we know; we struggled with the order, but the power of this vision overwhelmed the wisdom of having an omelet, so it was done. In addition we ordered a Swiss, lettuce and tomato on whole wheat toast and an order of waffle fries. Our waitress returned a few minutes after we placed our order to make sure we wanted whipped cream on the waffle. She understood the meaning of our "Yes" with psychic astuteness, for our waffle was served in a veritable helmet of whipped cream. (She knew she was good, and proclaimed it outright, in so many words.) The strawberries were abundant and absolutely fresh, and the waffle was light on the inside and toasty on the outside. If this were a waffle quest, this would be the final, triumphant post of Jersey Waffle. Our other orders were just as fresh and flavorful. The CLT sandwich and fries, for all their simplicity, could not have been better, and, yes, even the ubiquitous slaw was delicious.
So we were encouraged as we sat waiting for our pie and coffee. Maybe the #1 diner in the state was going to knock this one out of the park. But there at the Nutley Diner we were faced with yet another insipid, jejune piece of...pie. A slice so pale, so wan it seemed to have been barely sustained by--weeks?--of refrigeration. And even the coffee had plenty of room for improvement. We ask you, Nutley Diner, "Why, oh why, do you not rotate the pie?" We had so much hope for you, Nutley Diner. Why disappoint us with your inferior pie and coffee?
The pie, the pie, the pie... It seems the odds are stacked against us; at a rate of only three so-so or better slices of cherry pie in twice as many months of searching, is there more going on here than our clever use of the semi-colon? Is this Jersey pie a pie in the sky? Those of you who have been journeying along with us probably aren't even expecting good pie. Isn't that sad? Call us ingenuous ; ) We did believe that this blog would be spent comparing the finer distinctions of a mighty fine dessert. We really did. Since then we've come to know the harsh reality of commercial dining, even of the supposed home-style variety. A reality harsh enough to leave us wondering if our whole endeavor was futile. We felt so alone : (
It was heartening to meet Joe Hill* (or re-meet, as we had heard the Joan Baez song), through this "pie in the sky" phrase, just after asking ourselves (see last week's post) whether industrialization had dulled our senses, dulled our expectations. We won't venture a guess as to whether workers in control of the means of production would bake a better pie. We suspect that the problem of caring, the problem of investing oneself in the task at hand, whether baking a cherry pie or doing any other task, may well remain. How do we respond? The IWW emphasized the primacy of human life and happiness, and their mission was to respond consciously to industrialization. Jersey Pie is simpatico with this. We steadfastly assert that the cherry pie product should be of the highest quality, no matter who produces it, and we will continue to alert the public to purveyors of shoddy pies. Dining establishments, if the pie is not going to be good, do us all a favor and take it off the menu. This is our answer (for now) to our readers, who must by now be asking - as we are asking ourselves - why do we keep ordering cherry pie in New Jersey diners?
____________________________________________________________________
*Joe Hill, the most prolific songwriter of the Wobblies, coined the phrase "pie in the sky" in the early 1900s. Joe was stickin' it to the Salvation Army, suggesting that working folks needed pie here and now, not promises of heaven. Some folks will tell you that it was Joe's insistence on pie for the common man that got him shot full of holes by a firing squad in Utah. You see, Joe was in bed with another man's wife the night two thugs robbed and killed a merchant in the same town. When Joe turned up with a jealous man's bullet in him, the same night as the robbery took place, it looked suspicious. All the united workers of the world, and even President Wilson, couldn't save the 36 year old pie-idealist from the firing squad. His martyred body was taken to Chicago, IWW headquarters, and cremated. His ashes were mailed to IWW locals all over the world, and freed to the winds the following May 1st. Except for one envelope of ashes that was confiscated by the United States postal service and stamped "subversive." These ashes were released from the National Archive to the IWW in the 1980s, and in deference to Abbie Hoffman's prankish vision a portion of them were eaten by Billy Bragg. Jersey Pie's pie clamoring will hopefully not have such a dire outcome. Here's to you, Joe Hill.
Nutley, NJ 07110
Pie $ don't know
Coffee $ too much for this so-so cup o' Joe
For those of you just joining us here at Jersey Pie, we offer a quick review of our efforts thus far. After sampling the mediocre cherry pie offered by our local diner we decided to begin a search - chronicled in a blog - for the best cherry pie and coffee in New Jersey. Little did we know we had entered a nightmare world of refrigerator burn, coagulated goo, irascible boogers, high fructose corn syrup, and widget pies. Along the way we did get some pretty good cherry pie at the Bendix Diner (where the crust is too dense), some darn good cherry pie at the Tom Sawyer Diner (where the crust is not quite flaky), and what we think was probably very good cherry pie at the Jubilee Park Diner (where a mop bucket of bleach water overpowered our taste buds.) Six months later, we're still looking for New Jersey's best piece of cherry pie. Which brings us to the self-proclaimed #1 diner in the state.
Jersey Pie experienced a vision in the parking lot of the Nutley Diner, but it wasn't a vision of pie. It looked more like a Belgian waffle with strawberries and whipped cream. Now a lunch of waffles with cherry pie for dessert is not at all sensible, we know; we struggled with the order, but the power of this vision overwhelmed the wisdom of having an omelet, so it was done. In addition we ordered a Swiss, lettuce and tomato on whole wheat toast and an order of waffle fries. Our waitress returned a few minutes after we placed our order to make sure we wanted whipped cream on the waffle. She understood the meaning of our "Yes" with psychic astuteness, for our waffle was served in a veritable helmet of whipped cream. (She knew she was good, and proclaimed it outright, in so many words.) The strawberries were abundant and absolutely fresh, and the waffle was light on the inside and toasty on the outside. If this were a waffle quest, this would be the final, triumphant post of Jersey Waffle. Our other orders were just as fresh and flavorful. The CLT sandwich and fries, for all their simplicity, could not have been better, and, yes, even the ubiquitous slaw was delicious.
So we were encouraged as we sat waiting for our pie and coffee. Maybe the #1 diner in the state was going to knock this one out of the park. But there at the Nutley Diner we were faced with yet another insipid, jejune piece of...pie. A slice so pale, so wan it seemed to have been barely sustained by--weeks?--of refrigeration. And even the coffee had plenty of room for improvement. We ask you, Nutley Diner, "Why, oh why, do you not rotate the pie?" We had so much hope for you, Nutley Diner. Why disappoint us with your inferior pie and coffee?
The pie, the pie, the pie... It seems the odds are stacked against us; at a rate of only three so-so or better slices of cherry pie in twice as many months of searching, is there more going on here than our clever use of the semi-colon? Is this Jersey pie a pie in the sky? Those of you who have been journeying along with us probably aren't even expecting good pie. Isn't that sad? Call us ingenuous ; ) We did believe that this blog would be spent comparing the finer distinctions of a mighty fine dessert. We really did. Since then we've come to know the harsh reality of commercial dining, even of the supposed home-style variety. A reality harsh enough to leave us wondering if our whole endeavor was futile. We felt so alone : (
____________________________________________________________________
*Joe Hill, the most prolific songwriter of the Wobblies, coined the phrase "pie in the sky" in the early 1900s. Joe was stickin' it to the Salvation Army, suggesting that working folks needed pie here and now, not promises of heaven. Some folks will tell you that it was Joe's insistence on pie for the common man that got him shot full of holes by a firing squad in Utah. You see, Joe was in bed with another man's wife the night two thugs robbed and killed a merchant in the same town. When Joe turned up with a jealous man's bullet in him, the same night as the robbery took place, it looked suspicious. All the united workers of the world, and even President Wilson, couldn't save the 36 year old pie-idealist from the firing squad. His martyred body was taken to Chicago, IWW headquarters, and cremated. His ashes were mailed to IWW locals all over the world, and freed to the winds the following May 1st. Except for one envelope of ashes that was confiscated by the United States postal service and stamped "subversive." These ashes were released from the National Archive to the IWW in the 1980s, and in deference to Abbie Hoffman's prankish vision a portion of them were eaten by Billy Bragg. Jersey Pie's pie clamoring will hopefully not have such a dire outcome. Here's to you, Joe Hill.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Park Wood Diner, Maplewood
1958 Springfield Avenue
Maplewood, NJ 07040
Pie $2.50
Coffee $125
The Park Wood Diner gave us every reason to believe we would get good cherry pie. The chicken soup was good. The salad was fresh. Even the coleslaw was good. The place mats boasted "You'll like our food." A sign on the coffee maker said "God Bless America." We really believed it might happen. The slice we were served was fresh on both edges, which seemed to bode well. But that pie was nothing more than crust on the outside and red stuff on the inside.
It looked like a pie. Yeah, in a court of law it could be proved they had intended to make a cherry pie. They probably have a paper trail - invoices for cherries filed away, a testimonial from a 'baker' ( "I am the baker what make ze pie. Yes. I make ze crust. Also, I fill ze crust wit ze cherries. I swear I do zis.") - just in case in this litigious society someone asks for their day in court. The plaintiffs' discussion with counsel might go something like this:
Jersey Pie: We feel that by implication they were saying that there would be cherries in the pie.
Lawyer: So, are you saying it was a blueberry pie?
Jersey Pie: No, we mean the quality, a thing can't have no quality at all. Could they serve anything beige on the outside and red on the inside as cherry pie?
Lawyer: I think you've got no case, is what I think.
Trader Joe's cherry crumb pie last weekend was not much better. All real ingredients, no preservatives, a little more than 50% crumb. Something slimy happened between the cherries and the crumbs. And sweet. Not HFCS sweet, but sugar sweet. Not good. We are starting to think we can distinguish the flavor of disregard. This Trader Joe's pie carried the taste of the bottom line. And that brings us back to the assembly line. On television this week they're advertising the new Terminator movie. And here we pose a pie-quest inspired philosophical query: Have the machines already won? Is it not so much they might gain a survival instinct and human-like consciousness as they have already dulled our own awareness...of the quality that human care brings to a pie? Rather than rising to our level, have we already fallen to theirs, with questions like: how much filler can I use and still call it pie? How little effort can I apply and still keep my job? How little can I possibly care about what I am doing and still get it done?
It's a dark day for Jersey Pie. It's hard to believe we'll find any reason to carry on with our quest, and yet we continue our search. There are some lights on the horizon. We've heard of an orchard in South Jersey, where folks line up for pie. Seems positively Edenic. Is that what we're really looking for here? A sort of Platonic ideal to feed our souls as much as it stuffs our pie holes? What are we really looking for?
Maplewood, NJ 07040
Pie $2.50
Coffee $125
The Park Wood Diner gave us every reason to believe we would get good cherry pie. The chicken soup was good. The salad was fresh. Even the coleslaw was good. The place mats boasted "You'll like our food." A sign on the coffee maker said "God Bless America." We really believed it might happen. The slice we were served was fresh on both edges, which seemed to bode well. But that pie was nothing more than crust on the outside and red stuff on the inside.
It looked like a pie. Yeah, in a court of law it could be proved they had intended to make a cherry pie. They probably have a paper trail - invoices for cherries filed away, a testimonial from a 'baker' ( "I am the baker what make ze pie. Yes. I make ze crust. Also, I fill ze crust wit ze cherries. I swear I do zis.") - just in case in this litigious society someone asks for their day in court. The plaintiffs' discussion with counsel might go something like this:
Jersey Pie: We feel that by implication they were saying that there would be cherries in the pie.
Lawyer: So, are you saying it was a blueberry pie?
Jersey Pie: No, we mean the quality, a thing can't have no quality at all. Could they serve anything beige on the outside and red on the inside as cherry pie?
Lawyer: I think you've got no case, is what I think.
Trader Joe's cherry crumb pie last weekend was not much better. All real ingredients, no preservatives, a little more than 50% crumb. Something slimy happened between the cherries and the crumbs. And sweet. Not HFCS sweet, but sugar sweet. Not good. We are starting to think we can distinguish the flavor of disregard. This Trader Joe's pie carried the taste of the bottom line. And that brings us back to the assembly line. On television this week they're advertising the new Terminator movie. And here we pose a pie-quest inspired philosophical query: Have the machines already won? Is it not so much they might gain a survival instinct and human-like consciousness as they have already dulled our own awareness...of the quality that human care brings to a pie? Rather than rising to our level, have we already fallen to theirs, with questions like: how much filler can I use and still call it pie? How little effort can I apply and still keep my job? How little can I possibly care about what I am doing and still get it done?
It's a dark day for Jersey Pie. It's hard to believe we'll find any reason to carry on with our quest, and yet we continue our search. There are some lights on the horizon. We've heard of an orchard in South Jersey, where folks line up for pie. Seems positively Edenic. Is that what we're really looking for here? A sort of Platonic ideal to feed our souls as much as it stuffs our pie holes? What are we really looking for?
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Jackson Hole, Englewood
362 Grand Avenue
Englewood, NJ 07631
Pie $3.75
Coffee $1.25
There is no reason to go to another eatery in New Jersey for pie if you can get yourself to Jackson Hole Burgers. (What were they thinking, naming an eating establishment Jackson Hole Burgers? The tiniest migration of syllable stress from bur- to hole brings up so many unfortunate ass-ociations!) But we should say, there is no reason to go to another eatery for pie, unless you want cherry pie. They don't make it. Their blueberry and apple pie are both homemade, and delicious. They serve it gently warmed, seemingly not in a microwave, and with a spritz of whipped cream and a drizzle of chocolate that made us wonder at first, but ended up being tasty. Jersey Pie was heard to exclaim with eyes opened wide, "This is so fucking good, why don't they make cherry pie?!" A follow up inquiry made at the cash register confirmed that apple and blueberry are the only fruit pies popular enough to merit home-making. Maybe we'll present them with the results of Jersey Pie's own survey: 3 out of 5 people surveyed prefer cherry pie! ; )
Jackson Hole is an immaculate 50's style boxcar diner, at least in architecture. So clean you could eat off the floor, as they say. The seats sparkle like starlight. The chrome fixtures gleam. The coffee's alright. Breakfast is always on the menu. They even have jukeboxes on every table. Not open 24 hours tho. And, as the name makes clear, the emphasis is on the burgers, 7oz's cooked on the grill right before your eyes. Vegetarians beware; they'll test your moxie. Check out the Jackson Hole menu, and post a comment letting us know whether you think it's a diner menu. New Jersey Diners.com loosely defines a diner as a place that serves coffee, has a counter, is open 24 hours with their entire menu available, has a neon sign, and has jukeboxes. Jackson Hole has most of this. But it's a chain. Being a chain puts it into the Denny's/IHOP category, according to Diners.com, where it doesn't seem to belong, either. Jersey Pie doesn't mind Jackson Hole's ambiguous detailia, but lacking cherry pie, we cannot end our quest here.
Englewood, NJ 07631
Pie $3.75
Coffee $1.25
There is no reason to go to another eatery in New Jersey for pie if you can get yourself to Jackson Hole Burgers. (What were they thinking, naming an eating establishment Jackson Hole Burgers? The tiniest migration of syllable stress from bur- to hole brings up so many unfortunate ass-ociations!) But we should say, there is no reason to go to another eatery for pie, unless you want cherry pie. They don't make it. Their blueberry and apple pie are both homemade, and delicious. They serve it gently warmed, seemingly not in a microwave, and with a spritz of whipped cream and a drizzle of chocolate that made us wonder at first, but ended up being tasty. Jersey Pie was heard to exclaim with eyes opened wide, "This is so fucking good, why don't they make cherry pie?!" A follow up inquiry made at the cash register confirmed that apple and blueberry are the only fruit pies popular enough to merit home-making. Maybe we'll present them with the results of Jersey Pie's own survey: 3 out of 5 people surveyed prefer cherry pie! ; )
Jackson Hole is an immaculate 50's style boxcar diner, at least in architecture. So clean you could eat off the floor, as they say. The seats sparkle like starlight. The chrome fixtures gleam. The coffee's alright. Breakfast is always on the menu. They even have jukeboxes on every table. Not open 24 hours tho. And, as the name makes clear, the emphasis is on the burgers, 7oz's cooked on the grill right before your eyes. Vegetarians beware; they'll test your moxie. Check out the Jackson Hole menu, and post a comment letting us know whether you think it's a diner menu. New Jersey Diners.com loosely defines a diner as a place that serves coffee, has a counter, is open 24 hours with their entire menu available, has a neon sign, and has jukeboxes. Jackson Hole has most of this. But it's a chain. Being a chain puts it into the Denny's/IHOP category, according to Diners.com, where it doesn't seem to belong, either. Jersey Pie doesn't mind Jackson Hole's ambiguous detailia, but lacking cherry pie, we cannot end our quest here.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Don't Try This at Home
Practically every week we walk by a table full of "fresh pies" while marketing at our local grocery store. On many occasions we have stopped and remarked about the beautiful-looking cherry pies that are stacked there in neat rows, wondering, "Could this be one of Jersey's best pies?" But, inevitably, we walk away after reading the product information sticker. These pies have an ingredient list straight out of the chemistry lab. So were we cockeyed when we decided to pick one up and bring it home last week? Maybe. Or maybe we just decided - hey, let's give it a chance; it looks good, maybe we'll like it. So we gave it a chance.
An hour or so after dinner we brewed up some decaf and cut into the pie. It performed well at first. The filling flowed when the first slice was removed, and the crust flaked. We were actually hopeful as we hoisted our forks. Wish we knew how to spell "ohhh!" the way Paulie Walnuts said it when he found out Vito Spatafore was gay. Pretty much our reaction when that pie hit our taste buds. We were expecting fruits! But what we got was a WALL of sweetness, absolutely impenetrable; we could not get past it. This immediately put our previous pie experiences into perspective. Never had we encountered a flavor so one-dimensional. And there were six cherries in a slice. Not tart, not fruity, just some sort of shriveled, pulpy things, more like ghosts of cherries.
We know the ingredients a cherry pie should have: cherries, flour, sugar, shortening/butter, cornstarch/tapioca, water, salt, lemon juice, almond/vanilla extract (optional), food coloring (optional). We also understand that any baked pie will only remain fresh for so long, and that one must consider this when determining how long a pie can remain tasty. (Recently one half of JP was treated to a delicious pie purchased at a small bakery run by Mennonites in the Deep South. It maintained its taste and integrity - covered, at room temperature - for over three days.) Commercially made pies are clearly all about the science of shelf life. Not really FrankenPies, because the experimentation has all been done, these are the widget pies we have referred to before. Or, maybe the experiment is still under way, and all of us who eat widget foods are the subjects, Frankensumers.
One of the curious things about a ShopRite cherry pie is that the ingredients list falls 50% under the category "MAY CONTAIN." Do you remember Mystery Meat from your school cafeteria days? This is a bit of a Mystery Dessert.
A ShopRite cherry pie MAY CONTAIN: eggs, water, sucrose, corn syrup, pectin, citric acid, artificial flavor, carrageenan, sodium phosphate, sodium metabisulfate, paprika, casein, disodium phosphate, soy lecithin, spices, coloring, sugar, molasses, sorbic acid, sulfiting agents, agar.
A ShopRite cherry pie contains 2% or less of: salt, dextrose, yeast, citric acid, high fructose corn syrup, potassium sorbate, soy flour, eggs, nonfat milk, sodium propionate.
A ShopRite cherry pie contains 2% or more of: cherries, wheat flour, niacin, iron, thiamine mononitrate, riboflavin, folic acid, water, palm oil, soybean oil, and/or cottonseed oil, mono and diglycerides, bleached wheat flour with malted barley, corn syrup, modified corn starch, sugar.
Let's be clear. New Jersey's best cherry pie does not come from ShopRite in Hoboken. Now we were expecting chemicals, because we understand shelf life theory. But, that pie lied about its sweetness, too. Its high fructose corn syrup covered up a dearth of flavor the way a heavy perfume might, or might not, hide the stench of death. It was monstrous, and we wouldn't be at all surprised if one night we and our fellow villagers form an angry mob and descend on ShopRite, armed with torches and pitchforks, demanding the monster be destroyed - or at least a better pie.
An hour or so after dinner we brewed up some decaf and cut into the pie. It performed well at first. The filling flowed when the first slice was removed, and the crust flaked. We were actually hopeful as we hoisted our forks. Wish we knew how to spell "ohhh!" the way Paulie Walnuts said it when he found out Vito Spatafore was gay. Pretty much our reaction when that pie hit our taste buds. We were expecting fruits! But what we got was a WALL of sweetness, absolutely impenetrable; we could not get past it. This immediately put our previous pie experiences into perspective. Never had we encountered a flavor so one-dimensional. And there were six cherries in a slice. Not tart, not fruity, just some sort of shriveled, pulpy things, more like ghosts of cherries.
We know the ingredients a cherry pie should have: cherries, flour, sugar, shortening/butter, cornstarch/tapioca, water, salt, lemon juice, almond/vanilla extract (optional), food coloring (optional). We also understand that any baked pie will only remain fresh for so long, and that one must consider this when determining how long a pie can remain tasty. (Recently one half of JP was treated to a delicious pie purchased at a small bakery run by Mennonites in the Deep South. It maintained its taste and integrity - covered, at room temperature - for over three days.) Commercially made pies are clearly all about the science of shelf life. Not really FrankenPies, because the experimentation has all been done, these are the widget pies we have referred to before. Or, maybe the experiment is still under way, and all of us who eat widget foods are the subjects, Frankensumers.
One of the curious things about a ShopRite cherry pie is that the ingredients list falls 50% under the category "MAY CONTAIN." Do you remember Mystery Meat from your school cafeteria days? This is a bit of a Mystery Dessert.
A ShopRite cherry pie MAY CONTAIN: eggs, water, sucrose, corn syrup, pectin, citric acid, artificial flavor, carrageenan, sodium phosphate, sodium metabisulfate, paprika, casein, disodium phosphate, soy lecithin, spices, coloring, sugar, molasses, sorbic acid, sulfiting agents, agar.
A ShopRite cherry pie contains 2% or less of: salt, dextrose, yeast, citric acid, high fructose corn syrup, potassium sorbate, soy flour, eggs, nonfat milk, sodium propionate.
A ShopRite cherry pie contains 2% or more of: cherries, wheat flour, niacin, iron, thiamine mononitrate, riboflavin, folic acid, water, palm oil, soybean oil, and/or cottonseed oil, mono and diglycerides, bleached wheat flour with malted barley, corn syrup, modified corn starch, sugar.
Let's be clear. New Jersey's best cherry pie does not come from ShopRite in Hoboken. Now we were expecting chemicals, because we understand shelf life theory. But, that pie lied about its sweetness, too. Its high fructose corn syrup covered up a dearth of flavor the way a heavy perfume might, or might not, hide the stench of death. It was monstrous, and we wouldn't be at all surprised if one night we and our fellow villagers form an angry mob and descend on ShopRite, armed with torches and pitchforks, demanding the monster be destroyed - or at least a better pie.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Jubilee Park Diner, Clifton
913 Allwood Road
Clifton, New Jersey 07012
Pie, $2.59
10:45 PM; Head for the car, still smelling chlorine. Is it in our hair? Unbelievable.
10:44; At register; pay $11.29 tab. Question: "What time do you usually close?" Answer: "11. 11:30"
10:43; Leave a $2 tip.
10:42; Lights go out on the grab-a-toy game in the entry.
10:41; Dude in white makes 3rd pass by our table with the mop. Exchange glances. Set down forks.
10:40:03; Dude in white makes 2nd pass by our table with the mop ......... Chewing. Breathing. Tense. Swallow.
10:40; "Jesus, he's coming again."
10:39; Eating pie now, breathing through the mouth, so you can't smell the chlorine. Can't taste the pie. "Try breathing through one nostril."
10:38:26; Dude with a mop makes first pass by our table.
10:38:19; Dude with a mop bursts out of the kitchen.
10:38:10; Odor of chlorine. Eyes lock. Oh no! Oh, yes. No way! Yes. Way.
10:38; "This crust is actually flakey. It's really pastry!" Unbelievable!
10:37:57; "It's delicious!"
10:37:55; "The matrix isn't gelatinous!" "Look how it's flowing into the plate."
10:37:51; "No thanks; we'll do without."
10:37:50; Question: "Do you have our coffee?" Answer: "Oh, sorry about that. I can make some in about five minutes."
10:37:46; Thinking about coffee. "Mmmmm. Tasty."
10:37:43; "Look at this plump little cherry!"
10:37; Pie is set before us. Two clean forks. Beautiful. ........no coffee.
10:36: Question: "Are you ready for your pie?" Answer: "Yes! We are ready for pie!"
10:35:03; Waitress: "If I had to win that at an arcade it would have cost me a fortune."
10:35; Jersey Pie: "That's a nice elephant!"
10:34; Pushing eggs and potatoes around the plate, dreaming of pie.
10:33; Guy who was counting the money is working the claw-toy machine for the waitress.
10:27; Food arrives. Eggs look good, bodes well for the pie.
10:25; Guy at the cash register starts counting the till.
10:22:03; "Okay, this is serious now: we're working." Look around. Observation: A scarebunny is hanging over the counter. (A scarebunny is a cross between the easter bunny and a scarecrow.)
10:22:01; Question: "Do you have cherry pie?" Answer: "Yes, we do."
10:22; Order eggs and coffee.
10:19; "After all, how could a diner called 'Jubilee' not have cherry pie?"
10:18:50; Walk into the diner, look around. Rows of empty banquettes. It's dead. Silent man at cash register and lone doe-y waitress. Menus slide across the formica.
10:17; "Yes. They are open. Come on."
10:16; One goes inside. Question: "Are you open?" Answer: "Yes, we're open."
10:15; Pull into the parking lot of a dimly lit Jubilee Park Diner. The last patrons are getting into their car to leave. Question: "Do you think they're open?" Answer: "No, I don't think they're open."
10:14; Looking around; driving on the wrong side of Bloomfield Ave! "Look! There's the sign! Jubilee Diner!"
9:58-10:13; Creeping toward Clifton like it's rush hour or something. Unbelievable.
9:48:01-9:58; Traffic.....................................................There's E. Rutherford.
9:48;"Fuck."
9:36-9:47; Wheeling through the night down highways and highways and highways; talking.
9:35; "I know how to get to that diner, the one we were going to go to if we went to the movie in Clifton." "Let's do it"
9:30-9:35; Talking about Adventureland.
9:30; Leave "Adventureland."
7:20; "Yes. I do intend to eat the pizza, eat popcorn, AND go out for pie after the movie."
Clifton, New Jersey 07012
Pie, $2.59
10:45 PM; Head for the car, still smelling chlorine. Is it in our hair? Unbelievable.
10:44; At register; pay $11.29 tab. Question: "What time do you usually close?" Answer: "11. 11:30"
10:43; Leave a $2 tip.
10:42; Lights go out on the grab-a-toy game in the entry.
10:41; Dude in white makes 3rd pass by our table with the mop. Exchange glances. Set down forks.
10:40:03; Dude in white makes 2nd pass by our table with the mop ......... Chewing. Breathing. Tense. Swallow.
10:40; "Jesus, he's coming again."
10:39; Eating pie now, breathing through the mouth, so you can't smell the chlorine. Can't taste the pie. "Try breathing through one nostril."
10:38:26; Dude with a mop makes first pass by our table.
10:38:19; Dude with a mop bursts out of the kitchen.
10:38:10; Odor of chlorine. Eyes lock. Oh no! Oh, yes. No way! Yes. Way.
10:38; "This crust is actually flakey. It's really pastry!" Unbelievable!
10:37:57; "It's delicious!"
10:37:55; "The matrix isn't gelatinous!" "Look how it's flowing into the plate."
10:37:51; "No thanks; we'll do without."
10:37:50; Question: "Do you have our coffee?" Answer: "Oh, sorry about that. I can make some in about five minutes."
10:37:46; Thinking about coffee. "Mmmmm. Tasty."
10:37:43; "Look at this plump little cherry!"
10:37; Pie is set before us. Two clean forks. Beautiful. ........no coffee.
10:36: Question: "Are you ready for your pie?" Answer: "Yes! We are ready for pie!"
10:35:03; Waitress: "If I had to win that at an arcade it would have cost me a fortune."
10:35; Jersey Pie: "That's a nice elephant!"
10:34; Pushing eggs and potatoes around the plate, dreaming of pie.
10:33; Guy who was counting the money is working the claw-toy machine for the waitress.
10:27; Food arrives. Eggs look good, bodes well for the pie.
10:25; Guy at the cash register starts counting the till.
10:22:03; "Okay, this is serious now: we're working." Look around. Observation: A scarebunny is hanging over the counter. (A scarebunny is a cross between the easter bunny and a scarecrow.)
10:22:01; Question: "Do you have cherry pie?" Answer: "Yes, we do."
10:22; Order eggs and coffee.
10:19; "After all, how could a diner called 'Jubilee' not have cherry pie?"
10:18:50; Walk into the diner, look around. Rows of empty banquettes. It's dead. Silent man at cash register and lone doe-y waitress. Menus slide across the formica.
10:17; "Yes. They are open. Come on."
10:16; One goes inside. Question: "Are you open?" Answer: "Yes, we're open."
10:15; Pull into the parking lot of a dimly lit Jubilee Park Diner. The last patrons are getting into their car to leave. Question: "Do you think they're open?" Answer: "No, I don't think they're open."
10:14; Looking around; driving on the wrong side of Bloomfield Ave! "Look! There's the sign! Jubilee Diner!"
9:58-10:13; Creeping toward Clifton like it's rush hour or something. Unbelievable.
9:48:01-9:58; Traffic.....................................................There's E. Rutherford.
9:48;"Fuck."
9:36-9:47; Wheeling through the night down highways and highways and highways; talking.
9:35; "I know how to get to that diner, the one we were going to go to if we went to the movie in Clifton." "Let's do it"
9:30-9:35; Talking about Adventureland.
9:30; Leave "Adventureland."
7:20; "Yes. I do intend to eat the pizza, eat popcorn, AND go out for pie after the movie."
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Holsten's, Bloomfield
1063 Broad Street
Bloomfield, NJ
We have heard that too much analysis of something good robs it of its sweetness. This will be short. And we shall whisper, in case that helps. Come close.
After finding the Moltisanti connection to the V.I.P. Diner, we dared to look into the location for the filming of perhaps the best five minutes in the history of television, the final scene of The Sopranos. You know, sometimes a t.v. final episode hits you like the loss of a loved one - MASH, the Carol Burnett show, Seinfeld. Anyway, we found the location, Holsten's, and not only was the place real (as opposed to a set) and local, but its menu listed Homemade Pies, not to mention Homemade Ice Cream and Homemade Candy. Something so special just had to be shared. We got in touch with M. on Facebook. She had just posted in her status that she was "compartmentalizing." We posted that we had something for the compartment we have come to call her pie-hole. We kept it a secret all the way to Holsten's.
David Chase, who grew up in Clifton and North Caldwell, may have had fond childhood memories of Holsten's. If so, we are left all a-wonder that when he scouted the location in February of 2007 he ordered onion rings. When Tony ordered them in the final scene he called them the "best in the state." That is probably not true. The onion rings are bought frozen, not homemade like the sweet things that Holsten's serves.
On that special day, everything unfolded like destiny. We picked up M. at the train station, easily found our way to Bloomfield, and (!) parallel parked right across the street from Holsten's. We were greeted at the door by the Easter Bunny. (We know, it sounds like Jersey Pie is hallucinating; that is how - hush now, whisper - special it was.) We opened the door to the smell of homemade chocolate.
Very little was changed for the Soprano's shoot, and we felt like we were walking right into that transfixing Sunday evening screen. But the little jukeboxes were props, and we happen to know that the Russian-mob-looking dude went into the Ladies Room.
It was wonderful to be there.
And although they did not have cherry pie, and never do, they did put maraschino cherries on our banana split and sundaes. The ice cream was freshly made. And we hope you have had, and will often have, something so truly good. [Cut to black.]
Bloomfield, NJ
We have heard that too much analysis of something good robs it of its sweetness. This will be short. And we shall whisper, in case that helps. Come close.
After finding the Moltisanti connection to the V.I.P. Diner, we dared to look into the location for the filming of perhaps the best five minutes in the history of television, the final scene of The Sopranos. You know, sometimes a t.v. final episode hits you like the loss of a loved one - MASH, the Carol Burnett show, Seinfeld. Anyway, we found the location, Holsten's, and not only was the place real (as opposed to a set) and local, but its menu listed Homemade Pies, not to mention Homemade Ice Cream and Homemade Candy. Something so special just had to be shared. We got in touch with M. on Facebook. She had just posted in her status that she was "compartmentalizing." We posted that we had something for the compartment we have come to call her pie-hole. We kept it a secret all the way to Holsten's.
David Chase, who grew up in Clifton and North Caldwell, may have had fond childhood memories of Holsten's. If so, we are left all a-wonder that when he scouted the location in February of 2007 he ordered onion rings. When Tony ordered them in the final scene he called them the "best in the state." That is probably not true. The onion rings are bought frozen, not homemade like the sweet things that Holsten's serves.
On that special day, everything unfolded like destiny. We picked up M. at the train station, easily found our way to Bloomfield, and (!) parallel parked right across the street from Holsten's. We were greeted at the door by the Easter Bunny. (We know, it sounds like Jersey Pie is hallucinating; that is how - hush now, whisper - special it was.) We opened the door to the smell of homemade chocolate.
Very little was changed for the Soprano's shoot, and we felt like we were walking right into that transfixing Sunday evening screen. But the little jukeboxes were props, and we happen to know that the Russian-mob-looking dude went into the Ladies Room.
It was wonderful to be there.
And although they did not have cherry pie, and never do, they did put maraschino cherries on our banana split and sundaes. The ice cream was freshly made. And we hope you have had, and will often have, something so truly good. [Cut to black.]
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