Irrational Exuberance

The question we will be asking for the next generation might be, "where were you on 3.14.15 at 9:26:53? " (Or 9:26:53.5 according to JB.)  Maybe not --though for the record, I was on my bike.  It is a once in a century occurrence (Unless you are among those who think that 9:26:53 comes around twice today ....)  Keeping in mind that this is a fairly American thing, as much of the rest of the world writes their dates as day/month/year rather than month/day/year and there will never be a 14.3 in any year.  The best those poor people can do is celebrate an approximate pi(e) day.  Pi is approximated as 22/7 -- so the Euro's can celebrate an approximate pi(e) day on July 22, and indeed they may. And Pi(e) Day is not the same thing as National Pie Day, but I no longer care.  I did post a recipe for Key Lime pie on the family food blog back in January of 2010 for that.  Key lime pie showed up on this blog again for pi(e) day in 2012 -- at the same restaurant on Gasparilla Island where BDE had some key lime pie earlier this year.  And then last year JB and I had apple pie at Russ' on this date, and a photo made the blog.  This year is the real deal, though.  Ten or eleven of the digits of pi (an irrational number, in case the title is confusing, and I doubt that it is to hardly any of you).  Almost as much fun as answering the doorbell and having a FedEx person hand you a box that looks like this:

Much exuberance followed as I opened the box -- Perishable, Fragile, Pure Michigan, Grand Traverse Pie Company.  A pie made a 1,500 mile trip to land on my doorstep on Pi(e) Day Eve.  A Fire House Strawberry Rhubarb pie.

There was a card, too.  Signed by Emily and Andy and Mr. and Mrs. Smith.  Cool, right?  So I ditched my previous plan for Pi(e) day, which involved breakfast pie (quiche), lunch pie (some version of the New Zealand hand held meat pie), and dinner pie.  Maybe a chicken pot pie followed by some dessert pie.  It is probably a good thing that I gave up on that idea -- and went with this instead.  Here's part of my thank you email to them, which I want to share here because it contains what is probably my favorite pie story.  "It is very reminiscent of a piece of strawberry rhubarb pie I ate one summer evening while sitting in a condo along the shores of Lake Superior, recovering from my longest day ever on a bicycle.  That piece was better only because it was still warm, and it was birthday pie.  And because it was hand delivered by Emily."