Somehow, I recently found myself discussing pie with my friend LB. We both shared a mutual dislike. I prefer cake and frosting, and I hate crust. It’s just an edible plate made of butter. I’d rather eat the filling and save the calories. Yes, I leave clean-scraped pie shells in my wake. That’s life. Sometimes you are the gooey mess of blueberries, sometimes you are the stained pastry husk. (wait, what?)

Of course, the following Sunday, I was at the supermarket, and they had a table conveniently set up to bottleneck traffic to the produce aisle. This table was piled high with ~6 inch pies in apple, cherry, and peach. Peach pie is such happiness in my head; it evokes spring, relaxing in humidity on a porch, the singular fragrance of a peach, a cheerful shade of golden orange. Even better, it had a lattice-work crust! I bought one with the sheer intent to photograph it.

I took the following picture in bright sunlight, giving everything a nice sparkle and specularity.

Sparkling peach pie

Here is a partial view to highlight the crust. I think the shadow is a mite too dramatic and.. human-looking.

The shadow looks like a face, or the border of Montana

I took a similar partial-view shot on my wooden table instead in regular indoor lighting. It’s a much more muted shot. It seems lifeless after the sparkle seen above.

Peach pie in less aggressive lighting

I did eat the pie filling, and it was tasty, but it photographed like an orange mess. The peach slices couldn’t stand out from the gel.

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