Rhubarb Pie

I went to see my dentist this morning in the Village (the super-cute, downtown, beachy, awesome part of Carlsbad), and after I got my teeth cleaned and as I was driving down the 101 and looking at the ocean, I decided to stop at the Pannikin to get an Italian soda, so that my teeth could be completely coated with sugar. It turned out to be a really good idea, because they had just put four, freshly baked pies in the case, and one of them was a rhubarb pie! How could I resist?!


I have to say, whoever the farmer/caveman/dude was who first decided to eat rhubab was a genius. And, also, really hardcore. Apparently, the leaves are poisonous and the roots are a rather potent laxative, so you can really only eat the stalks. I didn't know any of this until just now, but I would still eat rhubarb pie every day for the rest of my life. Especially if I can get it from my favorite Pannikin man that Hannah and I always used to get Italian sodas from on Wednesdays at lunch after eating a Seaside Market vegetarian sandwich sitting on the back bumper of my minivan that we had parked at Cardiff State Beach!

Of course, seeing my Pannikin man and telling him about how much I miss the Pannikin when I am at school made me want to take this out-of-the-way way home so that I could drive through Encinitas adorableness, and when I was sitting at the intersection of the train tracks and D Street and eating some of my adorable piece of rhubarb pie while I waited for the Coaster to go by, Wilco's "Heavy Metal Drummer" came on on my iPod that I had on shuffle! Perfect.

Basically, this is really a post about how perfect Carlsbad/Encinitas/the Pannikin/summer/my life is, disguised as a post about rhubarb pie, so that everyone can be jealous. And now I am going to put on my Anthropologie chemise and get in my bed and take a nap as an ocean breeze gently blows through my west-facing bedroom window. Ha!

Love, Jillian