I felt #soblessed that we had time for a Dutch Haven visit before the show on Saturday. There is a certain magic to this place, like a butterscotch candy in grandma’s purse.
I have a cold and I’m half-asleep writing this on the couch. Don’t question me.
We were pretty full from our late lunch at Bridgeport Family Restaurant, where all the regulars loafed at the counter, engrossed in whatever kids talent show that’s hosted by Steve Harvey.
I really can’t stand Steve Harvey and none of those kids had any talent worth writing home about.
Inside Dutch Haven, Chooch acted as though he’s never had shoo-fly pie before and devoured two samples of it before ordering a whole slice all while making foodgasm sound effects. You’d think we kept him locked in the car every other time we swung by the Haven.
Oh my god, and the whipped cream to shoo-fly ratio is DIVINE, like a holy helmet to protect the molasses-y relic below.
I’m thankful that my beloved shoo-fly is 4 hours away because I don’t ever want the novelty to wear off.
Of course I ate my slice too fast and got really sick. Totally worth it though.
And then Henry gave us $5 so we could buy a horseshoe from some random unattended horseshoe stand outside of Dutch Haven and I got really worried that whatever Amish kid was shilling these wouldn’t know if we paid even though I definitely shoved a $5 bill into the metal cash box and I hope no one actually steals a horse shoe! The stand was right next to the parking lot for Dienner’s, which is a SMORGASBORD RESTAURANT for disgusting pot-bellied TOURISTS UGH. Everyone knows those are the types of people who piss on the honor system!
But seriously, why would you want to buy six of these?
Someone should bake me a shoo-fly pie for my birthday which is JULY 30TH. You have time.