How to Celebrate Pi Day

Earlier this month, we celebrated our one-year anniversary in our home. I would find it hard to believe that it's already been a year except for the fact that we feel so well established in our neighborhood. Seriously, I don't know when else in my life I've put down roots so quickly. It must mean that this is finally home.

One of the things we've loved about our neighborhood is that many of the families have long-standing traditions that happen year after year after year. For example, one family makes groundhog pizza on Groundhog's Day. Another hosts movie nights several times during the summer, complete with an endless supply of cotton candy. In the fall, that same family make enough doughnuts to feed a small army. Around Christmastime, a group of families closes off their street and invites the neighborhood for hot chocolate and scones.

Mike and I love all pf these traditions. But we wanted one of our own. One that new families in the neighborhood would hear about when they first moved in: "Oh, and then Mike and Amy, they do this amazing thing every year. You will definitely want to check it out . . . "

And then we thought of it. Something that happens every year in mid-March that celebrates two things Mike loves: numbers and pie. March 14th. 3.14. Pi Day. What better way to commemorate our home-buying anniversary every year than by inviting our neighbors over for a slice (or two) (or three point one four) of homemade pie?

Even though we thought of this months ago and knew it was the perfect tradition for us, we almost didn't do it. Life got busy. We were caught up in other activities, and it actually sounded a little daunting. It's all well and good to say you're going to invite the entire neighborhood over for pie. It's another to actually do it.

But when we realized that (a) March 14th was on a Saturday, (b) March 13th was an off-Friday for Mike, (c) the weather was supposed to be gorgeous, and (d), it was Pi Day of the century (3.14.15), we knew if we were ever going to do it, this had to be the first year for it. It was just too perfect of a kickoff.

And so we (but mostly Mike) pulled it off. This is how we did it.

Step 1: Plan out your menu. For us, this was chocolate, key lime, cherry, pumpkin, apple, grasshopper, and pecan. (Mike put the official ban on banana cream.)

Step 2: Invite the neighborhood. We tried to let everyone know through a combination of announcements, word-of-mouth, fliers, and a large sign.

Step 3: Don't schedule anything (not even work) on the day before. Reserve it for a pie-making frenzy. Luckily, as I already mentioned, Mike didn't have to go to work on Friday, and to quote him midway through the day (after he'd already churned out fourteen pies): "Can you think of any better way to spend an off-Friday that making pies while listening to Dennis Prager?" Actually, I could think of a lot of things I'd rather be doing. It all looked rather chaotic and stressful to me.

 

Step 4: Make a banner proclaiming the event. Set up tables and chairs. Spread out the pies.

Step 5: Wait for the people to come.

Step 6: Enjoy the company of good friends and neighbors.

Since we'd never hosted such an event before, it was a little hard to plan for. I thought it was entirely feasible we might get as few people as twelve or as many as two hundred. And Mike absolutely could not bear the thought of running out. So he shot for the upper limit and made twenty-eight* pies. Yes, twenty-eight. I so wish I had taken a picture of all of them because it was rather spectacular.

I tried to keep track of how many people came, and I think we were close to one hundred. I counted this as a success, but it still meant that we had a lot of pie left over.

Which could be seen as a bad thing.

But not if you're Mike and like eating pie for breakfast.

Until next year . . .

*Final count:

• pecan: 2
• cherry: 2
• apple: 3
• grasshopper: 2
• strawberry: 2
• pumpkin: 3
• chocolate: 7
• key lime: 7