![]() ![]() ![]() I’d watched many salivating customers deliberate for long minutes before this very case, but Dad reached a verdict almost immediately: “I’ll have Apple Pie.” He commanded a scoop of vanilla ice cream and a root beer, completing the all-American order. As we stood before the clear display case, a glistening array of artisan options tempted us: Mexican Chocolate Pie, Bananas Foster Pie, Earl Grey Pie, Maple Custard Pie, plus Chai Cheesecake. He appreciated my efforts, but on our last evening before he flew home, I acquiesced to his favorite genre, so we visited Pie Hole, a hip dessert spot in L.A.’s Downtown Arts District. Over a week, I had ferried him to a legendary deli on Fairfax, a pancake temple in Hollywood, and a chic outdoor dinner in Malibu. It was late July 2015, and he was visiting me in Los Angeles. On a warm summer night, in our final meal together before he withered away into someone else, my father and I went for pie. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Details
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |