Whenever he thought about it, he felt terrible. And so, at last, he came to a fateful decision. He decided not to think about it. ~John-Roger and Peter McWilliams
Question #93529 posted on 03/31/2021 10:06 p.m.

Dear 100 Hour Board,

Did any of you do anything for Pi Day?

-Mmm, Pie


Dear Raspberry Pi,

I didn't make a pie, but I made really good cinnamon rolls! Those are round, so I think it counts! I wanted to make a strawberry passionfruit tart but didn't have enough energy to pull it off. I also listened to Pebble talk about pi for a solid hour.... so that was.... fun. 




Dear π,

Yes, I did! I got together with some friends and we made apple, jello cheesecake, blueberry, and pink lemonade pie. Then we baked a Costco chicken pot pie for dinner and ate pie and played games after. It was thoroughly enjoyable.

Oh, and of course I watched Vi Hart's new video.



Dear Mmmm,

My wife and I had some lovely keto chocolate silk pie. Math is great, but I'm just glad for any excuse to eat pie which a superior desert to cake in everyway. Some of my fellow writers disagree but they are simply wrong.

Peace, or maybe not peace...



Dear Aziraphale,

Pi day is actually my older brothers birthday! And so I went to a dinner at my parents' house with him, his wife, and our other brother and his family. There was eating of delicious pie, baby back ribs, and various salads. T'was quite delightful.



Dear Cake is Better Tipperary,

We had leftover pizza pi. And I thought of Alta as I was eating it.

-Goldie Rose


Well boy howdy cowpokes,

It's a bin
It's ben
It's been a minute since I've had a second to chip in, and, for once, I have a good excuse. 
Okay, no, not really,
because monkeys are a terrible excuse,
because they are terrible creatures. 
"Terrible?!" you say, miffed, "I think monkeys are great!"
"Great, yes, but terrible," I reply sagely.

After all, it wouldn't really be an Ardilla Feroz answer without some convoluted recipe and a tense but ultimately senseless encounter with some multi-limbed rainforest varmint with bloodcurdling shrieks this statement has not been evaluated for efficacy and validity by the FDA and by the by and on the Pi (Day) which hath transpired one fortnight ago I am happy to invite you on along for this culinary treat-ise.

Enter the fairy avocado.


It is sideways, like every photo in this answer will be, because I don't know the formatting issue is and I'd like to distract you from that with a commentary that this has never been, nor shall ever be known as the fairy avocado. Sure, I've heard it called rose apple, wax jambu, Nigerian apple, and any other number of things, but fairy avocado? Nah, because it isn't that, but for this brief moment 
in our brains

And now let it flow, flow through our noses, drying up and caking along with the rest of the lost thoughts that children and your cousin Josh are so fond of eating straight out of the nasal cavity, ideally their own. Yes, this the origin of music. Mucus. I think? I can't think, but I think we should get back to--

Manzanas de agua, "water apples" as they are locally known in Costa Rica, are delicious, sweet, refreshing, lightly fibrous, with a bit a floral, rosy taste, the flavor you hoped you'd get when you bit into that glossy, pink bar of bath soap as a child. Yes, it's all here, in this fruit! It doesn't really taste that much like an apple, which is fortunate, because apples are overrated. 

Pi Day. πday dawned at 3.14 AM (give or take two hours) over the muggy coast where I dwell, and so I did my best to ignore this inconvenient fact for as long as possible, because I've been horribly burned out as of late, and it's hard to do anything sometimes, for reasons that are outside the periscope of this answer. And so the day passed. No, there would be no pie this day. It's not like anyone would lament the lack of--
"Hey, Ardilla, are you making pie today? Like you said?" asked a quasi-roommate.
"What? Oh, yeah, definitely."

I headed on over to our not one, not two, but four manzana trees, which had all decided to fruit at once. It would be simple enough to gather enough fruit for my experimental improvisational pie, I reasoned wrongly. 


For whistling and squeaking high up the tree was a small band of spider monkeys. 
Tragically, each and every one of these beasts was named Geoffroy. Yes, scientifically speaking these were Geoffroy's spider monkeys, and each presumably bore his curse, which didn't even have the decency to be spelled with an "E" at the end. Perhaps this greasy moniker was why they were endangered. Perhaps this sickening pseudonym was why they were so angry.


 Or perhaps it was because they saw me, below, approaching to forage fallen fruits, and Geoffroy can't stand other things stealing their food, even if they've just cast it down there themselves.
"There's enough for all of us," I called up, "can't we come to a peaceable agreement?" 
Geoff screeeeed in response, shaking branches, ripe fruits wasted as they swung free and smashed pointlessly on the ground. I sighed and ignored it, leaning forward to grab a few not too bruised, not too fermented by the day's sun. 

 A hard, unripe apple nailed my exposed neck. I picked it up, examining the treachery. 


Ardilla, you fool! Geoffroys can never be trusted! And Geoffroy has the high ground!


And are those...fangs, too? Better make this quick. The long-limbed simians jeered above, but I'd gathered enough provisions, and I beat an annoyed retreat. 


Safely indoors from salacious spider-mank eyes, I disemboweled my apples and dumped them into a pan with just a bunch of sugar.


Wow, those look like the entrails of some hapless creature! Just like Meemaw used to eat. 

Recipes I'd seen with this fruit online all seemed to use cinnamon, as if to make it a cinnamon apple pie. This, I decided, was pretty dumb. Cinnamon has a place, and it's in Guesthouse's incomparable cinnamon rolls.

In other desserts, well, it's fine, I guess, 
IF ALL YOU WANT TO TASTE IS CINNAMON. Cassia, really, and cassia [belongs] outside, howbout dat? 

I wanted to actually taste the rosy, eviscerated fruit I'd laboriously gathered for 10 whole minutes, so all I added was a light sprinkling of clove, some vinegar to brighten it up, and a disgusting amount of margarine, because that's what I have, being low on actual baking supplies--pie tins, butter, or just neutral shortening, even--so I used the awkward yellow bricks from my freezer, and Made An Attempt with the crust I'd prepared. It was thick, like a biscuit dough, but not nearly so flaky. Still, I was pleased with it's geometry, and as I peeled the pastry circles from the warm tile counter I hoped it would appease the Pi Gods as well, may they act irrationally evermore. 


NO! A horrible thought just appeared in my brain. This answer is like those horrible recipe blogs with super-long, needless stories before the recipe and you're like "GET ON WITH IT ALREADY" and so I'll note that what sets me apart is that I have no recipe,


they didn't have this actually pretty reasonably-good pie--entrail-like filling notwithstanding--and they certainly have never dealt with that ever-pieless, sniveling Geoffroy. 

Terrible, great,

--Ardilla Feroz, from the Osa Peninsula, Costa Rica




Dear You,

I forgot that it was Pi Day until about 11:30 the night before. Real irresponsible behavior. If I'm not careful, I'll lose my nerd badge.

Luckily, my friend remembered and she made peach pie for me and a few of my friends. :)