Wild Wild West

If you’ve stopped by PJP while we are baking, you’ve likely noticed that we work in two zones - one for cream and nut pies and one for fruit pies. And for the most part, when a new person joins Team PJP, they are assigned to one zone and stay a fruit or cream person for the duration of their time with us. On occasion, we will make a reassignment, but our intuition is pretty good during the interview process about where someone might fit the best.

(And if you wonder if there is competitiveness between the two, there is. Usually it centers around which side finishes the baking schedule the fastest…or the perceived inequity if one side has a much larger schedule than the other.)

For the most part, you’ll notice that I always stick to the cream and nut pie table and Jeanne will always stick to the fruit pie table. And in all honesty, Jeanne is 100% better at moving around to where she is needed most. It is dire circumstances when you find me down at the fruit table. And here’s why: cream pies and nut pies are very specific in their creation. You have to follow a recipe or you have disastrous results. Ask me what happens if you don’t whisk your sugar and cornstarch really well before adding your water when making Lemon Cream: CLUMPS OF CORNSTARCH. Ask me what happens if you add your eggs before your melted butter when making Chocolate Bourbon Pecan: SCRAMBLED EGGS. No joke.

The fruit table is like the wild, wild west of baking. There are no rules and everything depends how many pies of a certain flavor you are making. Your sugar and flour ratio to your fruit measurement is everything. And here is exactly where you can see the difference between Jeanne and I: I generally like a rule based system and she generally likes zero rules. Thus, I work on the front tables and she works on the back tables. (Wait, maybe this is why Jeanne likes Gunsmoke so much…it is the wild, wild west of television.)

But today we were short staffed and that meant that I had to help her on the fruit table. And I’m telling you that it felt exactly like showing up for a marathon that I didn’t train for and that I didn’t know I was running. I was ill prepared, lost, and a little worn out after it all. And all the while, Jeanne was living her best life. I basically trailed her around and was her sous chef, which I guess makes since because she is the Pastry Chef of the Year, right? Except her mind moves faster than her body and working with her is a bit like being inside a pinball machine. It went a little like: drain these blackberries, make a mix for the Peach Praline, flute this, mix that, now go back to the blackberries and use a slotted spoon, now go back to the peaches but don’t use a spoon, use your hands but don’t forget your gloves, and then take all those dishes over there. And set a timer on your phone. Oh, and be sure to warm up the dutch apple topping, but not too much. And don’t be chintzy with anything. Gah.

I’m really not complaining. She’s a top level expert and it frightens me how much I have to learn, even six years in. Will I ever be good enough to look at the baking schedule and know exactly how many cups of blueberries I need to make two nine-inch and three baby blueberry pies? Goodness, hopefully. Would I rather be doing a whole host of other mundane business tasks? HECK YES. Thankfully. we make the best team that way.