Shoo Fly, don't bother me

Week 3 has come and gone, and so has the pie...

Last Sunday I made a shoofly pie. Now, unless you're Pennsylvania Dutch, or are from a place where they tend to live, you probably don't know what the heck I'm talking about.

Shoofly? as in flies that need "shoo"-ing away? Maybe. We aren't really sure. There are a few theories: first, the "Shoo, fly! Get away from the pie!" Next there's the ever popular, although relatively unknown, version that says that the crumb topping on the pie looks like cauliflower, which in french is cheu-fleur. Now, I don't know whey the PA Dutch, you more likely know them as Amish, would try to act all French; I don't buy it. The third is that it's just the anglicized version of souffle. That could be the case, except that shoofly pie is nothing like a souffle... Anyway, I like the 'annoying-buzzing-thing-that-you-wish-you-could-just-zap' theory. (Plus, the top of mine really didn't resemble any cheu-fleur. )

Now, onto the taste: It tasted just like the pie that Steve Bower's mom made for my 5th grade class when we were assigned to make something from where our family heritage came from. That's a good thing, because I remember Steve's mom's pie being delicious. Gooey, molasses-y, pretty darn good.

Now, the opinion that really matters is Sumo's...

Me: "Hey Sumo, do you want to take the rest of the pie to work?"
Sumo: "No."
Me: "You don't like it?"
Sumo: "Yeah...that's it...I don't like it...(under his breath, while touching fingertips together in a very Mr Burns like fashion) Excellent..."

Needless to say, he's eaten the entire thing. Just a pie pan and a fork.