A Report From The Road

1) Unlike many who travel to NYC for pleasure, your Queen's priorities are aligned differently than those making forays to Prada, or per se, or even the Park. Her destination this day was The Little Pie Company, reputed to be the city's finest purveyor of . . . well, you can figure it out, right?



2) With its yellow walls and red naugahyde booths, it's a bright, retro spot. You can imagine it as filled with a cheeful bustle, if you happen to like that kind of thing. We perched on stools and awaited the delivery of our late afternoon snack, paying little attention to the radio music playing on the soundsystem. Wait! What's that song? American Pie! Coincidence? The Queen doesn't think so . . .




3) The next song: MacArthur Park. Even though the LPC's menu includes cake, we didn't order any. (It's not The Little Cake Company, after all.) Although, honestly, after the whipped cream melted all over the key lime pie, it did look like it had been left out in the rain. I don't think that I can take it. . .



4) From our spots, we had a fine view of the kitchen where we observed cans of Crisco stacked on the shelves. Beware, LPC, the day of trans-fat reckoning is near.



5) We tried four different five-inch pies. Montmorency Cherry, Florida Key Lime, Southern Pecan, and Sour Cream Apple Walnut. I think the apple was the best, which is fitting, since LPC calls it their "signature pie." Five inch doesn't sound that big, but trust me, that's plenty of pie. In fact, the Queen -- an individual not particularly known for her dainty appetites -- toted half of hers home in a doggy bag. That turned out to a very fortuitous move, since we just happened to stop in for a box of Beard Papa cream puffs on our walk back.




6) There was a stack of pies at the front door, waiting to be Fed-Exed. They were all in Dean & DeLuca boxes (is this investigative reporting, or what?) and we couldn't help but notice that the top pie was to be sent to Dan Rather. Bon appetit, Dan.