In search of story


Disconnections: December 23.18


Life has its moments

of bliss unalloyed,

of humor splenic

roundly devoid.

When eye and nose

and memory combine

to flour and fat and filling


In pie, in pie

the toothsome all:

in fragrance, form,

the anti-banal.

If ever our being

you seek to justify,

look but to crusted

invention of pie.



With many salivating thanks to photographer S. W. Berg.

And kudos to pastry artist Jennifer Berg.

Full disclosure: I couldn’t bake a pie even if you threatened me with Brussels sprouts.

But I can eat it.



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Connections: November 26


Is there a pumpkin in your pie?

(in your pie)

Is there a lox upon your rye?

(‘pon your rye)

Pierogi, latke, dribbles on my chin,

and Brussels sprouts cannot come in.

(cannot come in)

Is there a gizzard in your pot?

(in your pot)

Giblet gravy hits the spot.

(hits the spot)

Drumstick, wishbone, grease and sticky plate,

that is why today is great.

(today is great)

Memories with nosh and sip,

(nosh and sip)

 ghosts in every crumb and drip,

(crumb and drip)

but lift we glass as high as it can be

to what has been and what will be!

(and what will be)

To be sung, more or less, to the tune of “There Is A Tavern In The Town.”

Think Mitch Miller, you who are old enough.

All others, go to Google.

And Happy Thanksgiving!


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Connections: November 9

2014-11 - Vernon Hill - Pumpkin pie

Behold the crust ruffle!


For me, kerfuffle,

 hapless crumbly warfare.

I’m pastry-challenged.

I just can’t do it.

Neither head nor phalange

can construe it.

So I stand in awe of others’ skill

in gustatory elation

applauding flaky flute and frill

in happy delectation.

More thanks to the S.W. Berg Photo Archives, and a floured salute to Pie Meister J.E. Berg.