This is the second in a series of post-event notes about two months spent in the East Coast, USA.
When some American friends of mine found out that I was going to be in the US on Halloween, they encouraged me to try out pumpkin pie. More like ordered me to go out and find it actually, because apparently my American autumnal experience would be considered incomplete without having tasted it. I took their suggestion seriously, and stayed alert every time the Parentals and I would go out. After about two weeks of walking around and casually looking at supermarket shelves though, I began to wonder why there wasn’t any sign of pumpkin pie anywhere.
And then it eventually hit me. I couldn’t find pumpkin pie anywhere I went because we liked to shop at the Asian mart. They don’t carry pumpkin pie.
After a while though – a few days before we were to return to the Philippines – a glorious pumpkin pie appeared at the aisle of our local Safeway. I might have squealed. I might have taken out my phone in the middle of the parking lot to snap pictures of the much sought-after pumpkin pie. And I might have carried the pie all the way to the apartment as thought it was a newborn baby. I might have.
As for the taste, the pie was really really good at first bite. In fact, the entire first slice was pretty amazing. I’m not a big fan of sweets though, so I didn’t warm up to the flavor enough to want more than a second slice. And, as a friend told me much later, I ate the dratted thing wrong. I was supposed to put whipped cream on the pumpkin pie, or something along those lines.
Either way, I’m just really happy that I found pumpkin pie after weeks of searching. I was so happy in fact, that I wrote a short story revolving around pie. And maybe, if or when I come across pumpkin pie in the Philippines, I’ll consider tasting it again – if only for the sake of reliving memories.