The Scoop: So many pies and only one stomach
I had waited my whole life to hear the question Farmers Market director Mary Cantrell asked me about a month ago.
“James, will you help judge a fried pie contest for me?”
Will I help? You better head to Vegas and bet “yes” on that one because in this world of constant change, there are some things we know to be true: 1) I like to eat platefuls of food; 2) I’m on a first-name basis with many bakery employees around town; and 3) I’ve been known to get chummy with a few fried pies.
But before you declare me the perfect fried pie judge, I should provide this disclaimer: Judging a fried pie contest is not all fun and games. Yes folks at home, that’s the sad truth of the matter.
Getting the chance to eat over 20 mouth-watering fried pies may seem like a heavenly way to spend a morning, but I can tell you from my first-hand experience last Saturday, it’s something kids probably don’t want to try at home. I found it’s actually a brutal test of endurance that pits an ordinary human stomach against an onslaught of sugar and saturated fat. That doesn’t bode too well for the stomach.
I discovered that judging the Farmers Market fried pie contest, while it does have an appealing ring, should be left in the hands of trained professionals. Only after preparing your appetite through months of late-night splurging and overeating in general, should a person attempt to judge a fried pie contest.
That said, I should clarify that the above mentioned comments should not be interpreted as criticism. I say anyone who can complain about judging a fried pie contest has an entirely too negative outlook on life.
The point I’m trying to make is that there are two very distinct and entirely different attitudes a person has before judging a fried pie contest, and after judging one.
The first feeling is one of overwhelming glee, the feeling of seeing two tables that are buckling under the weight of fried pies and knowing you get to eat every last one.
The second feeling begins to hit during the actual judging at around pie 11 or 12. It’s the bloated sensation that comes after you have just eaten a dozen fried pies. Then you realize you have close to a dozen more to go.
I was not alone in this assessment. Even high school teacher and FFA director Russell Watson, known far and wide for his skill with a knife and fork, admitted it was tough working his way through the last half dozen pies. For Russell to say that, you know it had to be grueling.
But sandwiched in between all the grit and determination required to make it through the contest was some mighty fine eating. If the Farmers Market is going to hold a fried pie contest, you know there are going to be some melt-in-your-mouth entries.
Mevolyn Farless, the overall winner with a fried apple pie, had an entry that made my taste buds dance. Glenda Woodlee submitted a fried chocolate pie that almost had me turning cartwheels. And if you’re looking for a party in your mouth, look no further than Sue Clendenon’s fried peach pie. It’s got a burst of flavor that will knock you to your knees.
The most profound statement I can muster about judging a fried pie contest is that I regret I have but one stomach to give to my country. And always remember, when the calories in a regular pie just won’t do the job, there’s no better way to fill your craving for grease and fat than a traditional fried pie. Just don’t try to eat more than 20 at one time.
(James Clark is editor of the Standard. He can be reached at 473-2191 or by e-mail at [email protected].)