Lifted from the album and mined from the notebooks, Wednesday, July 22, 2020. Posted Saturday morning, July 25.
Wednesday, on another one of our long explores, Mrs M and I wandered our way here, the pie case at Lakeside Farm in the town of Ballston in Saratoga County. We’ve passed it on several of our country drives since we’ve been up here at the homestead. They’ve been open since May 1, but until today we were able to resist the pull of their gravity. Lakeside Farm is an old Mannion family favorite, been there forever, long enough that I discovered it at secondhand when Uncle Merlin’s sainted mother Rosalie, who had a knack for discovering the best places for pie and coffee on her own long explores, sent me a dozen apple cider donuts when I was in grad school in Iowa. I have to confess: I didn’t share. Sorry, Steve. My apologies, Ann. Miller, I’m sure you understand. Wednesday we weren’t there for donuts. Or produce. Or charming country-themed knick- knacks. They have a farm stand on the ground and a gift shop, but we marched straight into the main building, properly masked and maintaining social distance, for pie. There’s a dining room. Andrew Cuomo gave the all-clear for indoor dining a couple weeks ago as long as every other table is kept empty, and a few of the occupiable tables were occupied. But the hell with that. Our plan was to take pie home for dessert. We went to the counter and debated our choices. I favored cherry or blueberry. Mrs M came down on the side of Dutch Apple. I lost the vote 1-1.
You can see in the picture up top the space where our Democratic pie had been waiting for us.
"What makes you call it a Democratic pie, Lance?" I hear you asking.
This, the sign on the way in the front door...
Not the big one on the door itself that says “PLEASE WEAR A FACE MASK.” The smaller one on the doorpost below the Boylan’s Birch Beer logo. See what it says?
“Stronger Together Saratoga County. Mask Required”.
“Stronger Together.” I don’t have to remind you whose slogan that was---and still is.
Lakeside Farm strikes me as Hillary’s kind of place. I’m even willing to bet she knows about it and can tell you whereabouts it is. She was our senator, remember, and she made a point of getting to know the state, the whole state. She liked to rove far north and west of New York City whenever she could. I don’t know what kind of pie she’d have bought if she’d stopped in. Probably all of them. She’s rich, after all, and, unlike me, she shares. But if she had stopped in when she was running for President, the press would have jumped all over her. Pie and farm stands are authentically American, and she never did anything authentic, you know.
Hillary grew up in the Midwest. She spent two decades in Arkansas. As United States Senator she represented a largely rural state one of which’s main industries is farming. But she had no affinity with the real, regular Americans and none of them voted for her. Unlike you know who. His voters were the real, regular Americans, and they spent the time in diners to prove it. Ask just about any political journalist. They’ll tell you.
Any old who. Our pie tasted authentically delicious.
Wear your mask. Socially distance. Wash your hands. Use sanitizer. And eat your pie.
Thank heavens for all of us, Rosalie knew her spots!
Posted by: Uncle Merlin | Saturday, July 25, 2020 at 09:58 AM
Pie, pie, me oh my:
https://youtu.be/qXG3l4FdviU
Posted by: Cathie from Canada | Saturday, July 25, 2020 at 01:11 PM