New Westerners

My Oh My I Ate Too Much Pie

By Emily Esterson , 9-14-06

	Who needs a picture of the woman (which didn't come out) when you can have a picture of her pie? Also, Dr. Bernitsky's cherry (winner) and Haven's blueberry (2nd place) post gluttony.

I am in a sugar induced coma. I consumed not one, not two, not even three, but four or five (I lost count) slices of pie. I could not stop. And I am blaming Rebecca.

I just returned from the New Mexico State Fair Pie Contest, one of those small-ish events that takes place in one of the state fair's dimly lit, drab exhibition halls, far from the ferris wheel and the corn dogs and the animal pens. Small-ish, maybe, but certainly media worthy: Dan Mayfield, man-about-town from the Albuquerque Journal, a reporter from the Tribune, and assorted photographers, all showed up to the tasting and judging, set back in a corner of the Creative Arts Building.

I've been threatening to enter the pie contest for a few years now, but until today had never actually seen it. An acquaintance, Rebecca Dakota, is a pie contest veteran and oft-winner. She mentioned it during a meeting yesterday, and I thought, 'this is it! The perfect excuse. I'll go root for Rebecca.' In fact, 11 times over Rebecca has won the pie contest (either in a category or in best-in-show). She's been participating on and off since 1988, and she has an entourage of friends who join her, both in baking and in post-contest consuming, which takes place outside of the building, next to the hot-tub exhibit at a couple of picnic tables. She also has "pie friends"—including Albuquerque pulmonologist Dr. Ron Bernitsky (who left before the end so we ate his pie, too) and others who enter year after year after year.

Rebecca only makes six pies a year. She doesn't "train" for the contest (somehow I imagined her, apron and kitchen covered in flour dust, working pie dough until all hours, while simultaneously holding down several different jobs) and generally rates her pies on a scale of easy, medium, a pain in the ass, and a royal pain in the ass. Today's blue ribbon winner in the non-traditional apple (with caramel and pecans) got the latter rating. Her coconut cream didn't fare so well, ranking third, but then she did admit having some issues with the meringue.

She wasn't alone—the pie contest is more cooking lecture than competition. During the meringue judging, the county extension agent and one of the judges explained why meringue is so hard to get right at high altitude (whip the egg whites to medium soft peaks, rather than stiff peaks, and add a dash of flour and a little less sugar to stiffen them (who knew?). That wasn't the only tip she gave; I felt chagrined that I didn't have a notepad to record all the cooking tips. Some of the comments were less than nice. The thin-skinned need not enter, because the judges were not shy about saying what they didn't like. (This one's tasteless. This one wasn't really cooked. The crust was too bland, and so forth).

Like many of the pie contestents, Rebecca learned pie technique by watching her grandmother (who didn't actually teach her to make pies). She's also a filmmaker, and she's at work on a documentary in the "Spellbound" vein, only with crusts instead of spelling "crustaceans." She's already produced pie-crust 101, and given her record, I have to be sure to get a copy before next year's fair.

After the contest was over and the best-of-show winner (not Rebecca this year) photographed with ribbon and pie, contestents loaded up their carts and pie carriers and headed across the street, to the picnic tables, where true gluttony was in force. Rebecca's picky--she made it clear that we were to cut the coconut cream and apple caramel pecan with different knives. The apple caramel was so rich—think state fair caramel apple, topped with nuts, a whisper of cinnamon. The way to eat it was to make sure you got a smidge of caramel topping with each bite of apple. Added to the mix were two cherries, and Rebecca's partner Haven's blueberry--all, in my opinion, deserving of prizes.

Only thing is, I may never eat pie again.

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