And a million pies later…

This was a good week. A long week, but good in so many ways. Firstly, I felt in tune with the pie truckand that is a must to feeling good. Sometimes the inside me doesn’t align properly with the tasks the world is requiring which certainly causes a lousy battle.  I find that when I feel as if I am playing, I am most at ease. It is a constant wonder in my mind if I am completely loopy, partially loopy, or if most people “play” when they are doing their best work. I hope some of you understand what I mean, because alas, it would be unfortunate to find I am the only one…

Secondly, this week I completed a project so huge and satisfying that my soul doesn’t know how to withstand the comfort in having it done. I keep wanting to go back, tweak this, adjust that, yet there is nothing necessary to tweak or adjust. The project is done, at least for this stretch of the road. I am not going to be so thoughtful as to include you all in what the project is, I am not being coy or sassy, it is just that it needs to be kept unrevealed at this time. (Is unrevealed a word? My computer doesn’t seem to think so). I will however say it is a book project, so no one will start believing that I built a house from ice blocks or sculpted a goddess in a giant boulder. 
Lastly, I managed to have my children clean the housejust enough<!– /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:"MS 明朝"; panose-1:0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:128; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-format:other; mso-font-pitch:fixed; mso-font-signature:1 134676480 16 0 131072 0;} @font-face {font-family:”MS 明朝”; panose-1:0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:128; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-format:other; mso-font-pitch:fixed; mso-font-signature:1 134676480 16 0 131072 0;} @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:””; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:Cambria; msoascii-font-family:Cambria; msoascii-theme-font:minor-latin; msofareast-font-family:”MS 明朝”; msofareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; msohansi-font-family:Cambria; msohansi-theme-font:minor-latin; msobidi-font-family:”Times New Roman”; msobidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} .MsoChpDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; mso-default-props:yes; font-family:Cambria; msoascii-font-family:Cambria; msoascii-theme-font:minor-latin; msofareast-font-family:”MS 明朝”; msofareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; msohansi-font-family:Cambria; msohansi-theme-font:minor-latin; msobidi-font-family:”Times New Roman”; msobidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} @page WordSection1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.WordSection1 {page:WordSection1;} –>that my “weekend” was not fiddling with dishes, washing floors and scrubbing toilets. I’ll admit, I did do all of those things; wash dishes, clean floors and scrub toilets, but they were all minimal versions of what would usually be defined as major cleaning. I am so thankful.

Oh, and on a simple, minor note of satisfaction, I bought a small wood-desk at Goodwill. I thought it was for my daughter’s room, but my husband reminded my what a stack of things would gather on it in oh so short a timeand he is rightit will be of so much more use downstairs as a wee work spot for me. Now here I sit, so professional, writing this and feeling quite complete with my forearms resting appropriately as I type. What a lucky trick for me, guiltlessly buying something for someone else, and then reaping the benefit of its luxury.
Well, that just about does it.
All my best to Everyone!
                                                           Cheers ~
                                                                 Marica

Bits of these days…

May happened so fast, is it true we almost have made it through half this year already? It surely doesn’t feel possible. May has brought many hot days. I feel like I should embrace them, but instead I still detest too much sun. 
Our little neighborhood here hosts an annul parade. Exactly one year ago Sunday, the pie-truck opened during the festivities of this yearly event.
This year we’re far more experienced and no longer the newbies on the block. The pie-truck has had a good year. Winter was harsh, so harsh I often began to think we were nutty dimwits for opening the whole pie deal, but as weather warms and rain becomes an occasional treat, the pie patrons are returning. As well as the resurgence of orders for salad… 

Lazy afternoon naps are something I cherish as often as possible, especially since 
my schedule has returned to morning til night; it’s all pie, all the live long day. 
Fittingly I must sing; in the tune of I’ve been working on the rail road:
I’ve been working in a pie truck
All the live long day

I’ve been working in a pie truck
Just to pass the time away ay-ay-ay

Can’t your hear the timer blaring
Biscuits out to cool

Now the customers awaiting
There’s still more dough to roll

Paiku won’t you roll
Paiku won’t you roll
Paiku won’t you roll the dough ho-ho-ho
Paiku won’t you roll
Paiku won’t you roll
Paiku won’t you roll the dough

Someone’s in the kitchen at Paiku
Someone’s in the kitchen I know oh-oh-oh
Someones in the kitchen at Paiku
Rollin’ out the ol’ pie dough

And singing

Fee-fi-roll out the dough
Fee-fi-filly-i-roll that dough-ho
Fee-fi-filly-i-oh
Rollin’ out the old pie dough
Other bits of non pie life:

                                                   I hope everyone had a tremendous Mother’s Day!
      
                                                                          All my best and many cheers ~
                                                                                                Marica

Pie Truck Post

I feel like I have very little time to take pictures right now. My days are soooo busy and filled to the brim with children, pies, house cleaning, and all the other little tidbits of things that have to be done. Gone are the days of toddlers and the four meals that happened before the sun even reached it’s peak in the sky. I miss that slower pace. I miss it a lot. At the same time my current adventures are exciting. I am serving the world up pie. Real, handmade, scratch-made, flour-all-over-me-made pies, every week. There is surely monotony, but there is also that burst of life that can happen when I make a connection with a customer. There are the mornings where all that takes me through is, strong brewed chai, a dabble of music and the revelation that I AM MAKING PIE for complete strangers. This is my art, in the form of the word meaning expression, and I better make use of it while I choose to indulge in such indulgences. 
Like with anything, working out of a truck has its ups and downs. It is a very personal, very connected feeling situation. I see the weather—the windshield and other windows of the truck gift me the sensation of being part of each day as its shifts in and out of clouds, sun, rain, or the rare snowflake that will certainly make me giddy as a child. I am in conversation with each and every customer. They see me wash my hands and attend to their meal, from start to finish. Not so much the cooking, I’m in the truck, and they usually wander off to sit down, but as in the way you are a friend to a barista; they remember your drink and make it themselves. I am my own boss. I hesitate to use that word, it is so ugly and unbecoming of what the meaning of that is. I have the weight of making sure I cross my Ts and put tails on my Qs. I often am ready to turn off the propane-powered ovens, lock the door and leave the mess for another day. But I don’t. But I do dream of it, sometimes. 

 I taste food, constantly. I actually realized something the other day—I recommend you give it a whirl—I realized that if you stop to taste food it tastes more. I am often beside myself with how amazing and unbelievably out of this world a simple thing like a mushroom sauteed in butter can be. What I noticed was, even if you eat something less than incredible, if you stop and let your tongue fully communicate to your brain before you swallow it down, it is remarkably more tasty. I tend to be a scarfer. I can eat a burrito faster than my stomach will enjoy, only near the end when I am already quite full do I slow down enough to truly taste. I am planning to adjust my tendencies. 

And I like how magical people find pie. I like touching the piece of a person that goes straight to their, for lack of a better word, “inner child”—the part of us that gets excited by windstorms and soft about Christmas lights. So often pie sounds good, but when it is delivered, it’s a lukewarm, over-sweet, rancid butter lingering disappointment. I love knowing that what I set before these people is the right amount sweet, freshly baked with real butter, and the kind of care I would want someone else to put into my food. Even our sweet pecan pie, though sweet, makes the mark, at least in my opinion. 
 
I wanted a place to serve food from. The goal was good, real food—kind you read about in storybooks—at a price where it isn’t only available to the aloof, fortunate eaters. That would make my stomach turn. It is an almost impossible balance, but so far we are hanging on. 
 
Well, long winded and pie oriented, I better get to bed. Tomorrow is Monday, lovely, lovely Monday. 


                                              Hope you all have a good night!

                                                                                         Marica

Oh Sweet Monday, and a giveaway…

Good morning lovely Monday world. It is my day off, the pie truck is closed and I have the whole day to do as I wish.  I am learning that on these days away from the truck I tend to have such high hopes for getting things done that I often feel frustrated come evening. It is not that I want to do ten million errands, it is that I want to work on so many projects that there is no way to fit them all in. How do I choose where to start? I am getting better at this weekly pattern—at least I see it, and am not so crushed at my lack of ability to create it all.  But there is still that rise and fall every week…

This is where my dilemma in loyalty gets split. Pies or books?? Clean house or take a nap. I used to hear people say if you want to do something well you have to give it a hundred percent. I always want to so many things all the way, I couldn’t settle for just one. Years ago I read Brian Eno’s biography and was forever inspired. He was a musician of course, a producer of some of the most amazing bands, a painter, involved in politics and he had children when he was young. This is the stuff I want to hear—you can do it all! Or at least he could…
As the holidays are nearing, I am excited to offer a giveaway of my first published 
children’s book Oh My Sweet Baby 
chidren's book, book for babies, indie art for children
chidren's book, book for babies, indie art for children
chidren's book, book for babies, indie art for children
 Please leave a comment below to be entered in the drawing. If you post this 
giveaway elsewhere, state the link and you will be entered twice.
Drawing will happen December 16th.
                                                                         Cheers ~
                                                                                    Marica

Paiku, living and breathing…

Scrambling the day before opening, I made our banner out of “NO FISHING” signs and bailing wire…
 The first day in the kitchen was something I already can’t exactly remember. The sensation is still recall-able, but there isn’t exact words to describe it. Adjectives could include: Stressful, hurried, excited, unnerving, stomach upside-down-ing, and I’m not sure what I’m doing… 
Three weeks later, I would say my handle on the business of pies being cooked in trucks, is much more comfortable and predictable… I now know the biscuits cool not on the cookie sheet, but are moved to a pie plate, and then eventually into a tub with a red lid. This all happens on the shelf above the stove. Hot pies also cool there. These are good things to figure out. Useful recurrences that are making my day more logical… 
 The sublime truck is a tight ship. We make EVERYTHING on board. EVERYTHING. If you didn’t notice the all caps the first time. 
 I lug groceries almost every morning. Actually, I don’t know why I say almost, I will rephrase: I lug groceries every morning. I shoot through the store at a safe version of top speed piling ridiculous amounts of butter, flour and lettuce into the cart. I always forget something, but mostly remember everything. There has yet to have been a chance to create detailed inventory lists. Image how convenient life will be at that point. 
 The dough is now second nature. It still makes as much mess as when we first opened, but at least now I know the handful of ingredients backwards and forwards…
 Each batch becomes four disks which creates two complete pies…
Oh yes, pies… 
 Sometimes I almost forget… We have a pie baking company!
 We have food we are creating by hand, to serve to total and complete strangers, in return for their hard earned money. 
 Rather presumptuous and alarming, and yet simultaneously it is most logical and pleasant. 
                                                                       My Best to Everyone~
                                                                                          Marica

Calm before the storm…

There was a month of quiet before the throws of food truck took over our world completely…
I found myself with hours to spend on completing books—more to tell on that another time—and catching up on brunches and lunches with friends. 
 I took pictures, had a clean house—for the most part—and painted in the evenings…
  I knew the storm was coming, I could feel it, and watched myself pull it into place…
 Now the storm has arrived, the full force blowing my mind… 
Tonight, at ten twenty, I am finding two minutes to catch up. 
I’ll post pictures tomorrow, of all the luscious fun that has been being had!
                                                               Cheers ~ 
                                                                          Marica