One of my very favorite things about PJP is our penchant to think up an idea on a whim and just go with it. Whether it is our work environment or the combined talents of Team PJP (or likely both), we completely excel at sharing our ideas with each other and then working together to make it happen. And usually, the most fun can be found when we are finished creating and we discuss what we like about what we've created or what we would change to make it marketable. Today we were working on our menu for our Epic Pie Tasting on Thursday night. And in the course of it, we were struck with an idea. But the idea needed SPRINKLES, of all things. Jeanne had left not long ago to go pick up our sales tax from the accountant (holla to writing unnecessarily large checks), so I called and asked her to stop by Hyvee on the way back and buy a big bottle of sprinkles. And in the long list of things to like about Jeanne, she agreed and never even asked me why I needed them. Everyone should have someone in their life that doesn't question the need for a big bottle of sprinkles, right?
Mainly we were curious if the sprinkles could be pressed into our raw dough and then baked in the oven, making a delicious treat. Because if so, well...WHY WOULD WE NOT DO THAT?
Personally, I grew up eating plain strips of baked pie dough (though I know legions of you like yours dusted in cinnamon and sugar). And over the last few years, we've thought here and there about baking dough strips and selling them...but we could never get ourselves settled on it. Jeanne mainly protested that the strips would be difficult to package and I worried about anything that could distract from our normal baking schedule that seemed overwhelming in itself at times.
But it might be possible that we have progressed just far enough in our PJP story to consider adding in a fun new character addition that is pie-related but not a baby or a nine-inch pie (sort of like when Cousin Oliver joined The Brady Bunch toward the end). We'll see how it works out, but first...we need a name. Preferably not Cousin Oliver.