Would I like Pie‘s new adobo pie?
They tweet their fresh pie flavors every morning, and for some reason I still read them, even though Pie is across town and not exactly a diabetic’s best friend. Today’s tweet said they had pork & chicken adobo pie.
I posted my intention to get up there and inspect the adobo pie, and two of my friends, both of whom I hadn’t seen in a while, agreed to drop what they were doing and meet me. New forms of adobo are almost like a family emergency.
Before I get into the pie review itself, I have to say that parking in Fremont is a pain in the neck. It is so stupid that I cannot walk out of my house and take a train to a groovy, dense neighborhood with a lot of things going on. All you people that killed the monorail, I hope you get colera.
Anyway, when I finally got to Pie I met K there, who was excited about the adobo pie she had just eaten. We both balked at the idea of mushrooms in the adobo, but then shrugged because whatever.
For those of you that don’t know, you are always happy to be served adobo, and you’re grateful and you eat it, and you can even declare it delicious. But then later on you get home and say to yourself, “my mama’s adobo is better.” And that’s the rule, because everybody’s mama makes it radically different.
In case you’re wondering, the best adobo maker is actually… me. I make it best. This is a pork, this is a chicken. Actually my pork adobo recipe tweet was published in Seattle Magazine. If you’re Filipino, you’ll try it, like it, and then go home and tell someone “that wasn’t a REAL adobo…”
So anyway, here’s the scoop on the Adobo Pie… It’s tall, as all their pies are there. There is a cut-out of a pig baked on top, which is a nice touch. The meat (pork and chicken) is shredded; it’s the style of adobo that’s cooked for a long time, so it shreds itself. There use onions, but they’ve disintegrated; and sliced mushrooms, which were a little odd for us but not unwelcome. K said she’d consider putting mushrooms in her adobo from now on.
The gravy was thick and juicy, and stuck to the meat, like in any good pie… I wonder if they added a thickener. The flavor was strong, very vinegary, very soy-saucy, and 100% adoboy. We all commented on how a) it tasted like adobo! and b) we wished there was rice.
C brought this up with the pie master later, as we left, how we all wanted rice. The pie master, a cheerful white lady who learned to make adobo from a friend’s lola, said she felt the same way. In fact, when they made the first batch, she and her partner went across the street to Yak’s Teriyaki to pick up some rice for themselves. Adobo flavor is too strong to eat without rice!
In summary, it was a fun experience, except for the parking. The pie lady confessed to us that she was worried that we wouldn’t like her adobo… needlessly, because her adobo was well within the mainstream of recipes that people call adobo.
But the question is… is adobo right as a pie?
It might very well be too strong to be served without rice (and a little salad of diced tomatoes). I would encourage them to keep pie-ing up ethnic meat stews, and seeing what happens. Kalua pig might make a great pie, or kaldereta. Or maybe if they just made the adobo pie a little less strong, or maybe put half a boiled egg in it…