Last weekend brought about the return of the Great American Pie Festival, an annual event that rolls on down to Celebration, Florida for a few days, leaving the lucky ‘burb in a diabetic coma. It’s a time of community. It’s a time of joy. It’s a time of rapidly expanding waistlines.
I visited the Pie Fest for the first time last year and left duly impressed with the experience. Returning in 2010, I found the whole set-up practically the same, with a few changes in appearance and vendors, but nothing that would signal a massive power struggle behind the scenes at the American Pie Council — the calorically-minded star chamber that runs the whole shebang.
I’ll spare everyone the fine details, but needless to say this year’s Pie Fest was a tremendous success, bringing together a friendly crowd of Floridians to experience sweet treats in the blazing heat, leaving shade a more prized commodity than milk. However, the beloved Never-Ending Pie Buffet, the central attraction for the Festival, was left with one sour note. While most of the vendors were mindful of the heat and the steamy effects on their pie, a few didn’t take extra precautions with their goodies. This left one slice of peanut butter pie as the most revolting thing I’ve tasted in quite some time — a gooey, godlessly nasty heap of PB jelly warmed to roughly 500 degrees. Horrible. Just horrible. Thankfully, the day was saved by more frigid confections.
But hey, enough of my yakkin’. Commence the Pienography.















































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