Says the Pie Man: Pies & Culture.

We borrowed this blog title from the following line in the famous nursery rhyme - "Simple Simon" - the lines goes...

 "Says the Pie Man to Simple Simon."

Herein, we'll seek to inform and entertain all those that understand the importance of (savory) pies in any self-respecting food culture. We'll send missives from the front line of in our ongoing attempt to proselytize the faith of the savory (meat or vege) pie in our adopted hometown of, New York City & ultimately beyond to the whole of the USA - where, relatively speaking, an horrendous dearth of savory pie culture still exists, even today!

We hope you'll come along for the ride.  If you want to hear any particular story about our inception, our struggles or our experiences building pie culture, let us know in the comments, we'll do what we can to fill in the gaps.

 

 

Simple Simon
Simple Simon met a pieman
Going to the fair;
Says Simple Simon to the pieman,
"Let me taste your ware."

Says the pieman to Simple Simon,
"Show me first your penny."
Says Simple Simon to the pieman,
"Indeed I have not any."

He went to catch a dickey bird,
And thought he could not fail,
Because he'd got a little salt,
To put upon his tail.

He went to take a bird's nest,
Was built upon a bough;
The branch gave way and Simon fell
Into a dirty slough.

He went to shoot a wild duck,
But wild duck flew away;
Say Simon, I can't hit him,
Because he will not stay."

Simple Simon went a-fishing,
For to catch a whale;
All the water he had got
Was in his mother's pail.

Simple Simon went a-hunting,
For to catch a hare;
He rode an ass about the streets,
But couldn't find one there.
He went for to eat honey,
Out of the mustard pot;
He bit his tongue until he cried,
That was all the good he got.

He went to ride a spotted cow
That had a little calf;
She threw him down upon the ground,
Which made the people laugh.

Once Simon made a great snowball,
And brought it in to roast;
He laid it down before the fire,
And soon the ball was lost.

He went to slide upon the ice
Before the ice would bear;
Then he plunged in above his knees,
Which made poor Simon stare.

He washed himself with blacking ball,
Because he had no soap;
Then said unto his mother,
"I'm a beauty now, I hope."

Simple Simon went to look
If plums grew on a thistle;
He pricked his fingers very much,
Which made poor Simon whistle.

He went for water in a sieve,
But soon it all ran through.
And now poor Simple Simon
Bids you all adieu.


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