Taste pie city

This name will remind a person with a growling stomach of where he has gone: Pieton. In addition, there are some old photos-those moving gelatin silver seals, and equally beautiful Kodak Roman color photos. These photos were taken 60 and a half years ago, after the Great Depression and on the eve of the global war, by a talented traveling documentary photographer who represented Roosevelt's New Deal. His name is Russell Lee. His images of Pie Town, about 600 of which are kept in the archives of the Library of Congress, depict this small blood clot of human beings in the alpine desert of New Mexico, in all the redemption, secularism and hard-won glory. Many of them are "Binding for Glory" published last year, with American color 1939- 1933. But let's go back to the moment of pie.

"What special type do you like?" Peggy Rolle is the owner of Piden's Daily Cafe. He asked me sweetly on the phone. At that time, I was still two-thirds away from the European continent. There is noise and a lot of talk in the background. I forgot the time difference between the east coast and the southwest, and called at an inopportune moment: Saturday lunch time. But the candy store owner is willing to take the time to ask me what my favorite pie is, so that I can prepare one when I get to her.

I have known Piedun for many years and I really want to go. You can find it on most maps, in Catrau County, west-central New Mexico. You can get there by American Highway 60. There is almost no other way, unless you have a helicopter. As early as Russell Lee of the Farm Safety Administration (FSA) went to Pie Town in 60 States in the United States, this road was far less famous than its neighbor route 66, who was farther north. On this road, you can enjoy the pleasure called "ocean to ocean". Large areas of roads are not paved. Last summer, when I was hiking, the road was well paved, but it was still a very lonely two-lane asphalt belt. In America, we have long abandoned the concepts of distance and remoteness, but there are still some places and roads, such as Pieton and American Highway 60. They sit behind the moon, or at least they feel this way, which explains part of their waving.

When I saw my first signpost pointing to Piedun, a small town in New Mexico outside socorro (according to the standards of New Mexico, socorro can be regarded as a city), I found myself irritable and strangely excited. This is because I know I have more than an hour. Obviously, this is the spiritual strength of the faction. Once again, I didn't plan things completely correctly-I left civilization, which meant that Albuquerque didn't fill his stomach properly during the three-hour journey. I mumbled that they'd better have some pies left when I got there. The billboard in socorro reads in bold letters: Family Cooking on the Great Watershed. Tonusapi. I move on with real determination.

Continental Divide: This is another aspect of Pieton's strange gravity, or I have been convinced of it. People want to see and taste it, at least in part because it is located in the continental watershed, less than 8000 feet above sea level. Pieton on the Great Divide sounds like a lyric poem by Woody Guthrie. In the frontier ego of our ancestors, there is something eager to stand somewhere in the United States, which is an invisible dividing line, where the water begins to flow in different directions to different oceans. Don't worry, you'll never see running water in Pietro. Water, or more precisely, the lack of water, has a lot to do with Piton's history.

This place was mainly built by sand players in the middle and late period of 1968 and 1930, who became refugees after their dreams in Oklahoma and West Texas were shattered. With a little cooperation, Thoreau's dream of self-reliance blossomed in this red land 70 or 80 years ago, among these yellow pines, junipers, dwarf pines and rattlesnakes. This town has been a settlement since at least the early 1920s. The legend began with a man named Norman, who applied for mining rights, opened a grocery store, liked to bake pies, rolled his own dough and started from scratch. He will serve his family and passengers. Mr Norman's pie was so popular that everyone began to call it Crossroads Pie City. Around 1927, local people applied to set up a post office. It is said that the authorities want a more traditional name. Residents of Pie Town say it will be Pie Town or no Town.

In the mid-1930s, there were about 250 families living around, most of whom were exiled in the local drought. When Russell Lee arrived at his wife Jane's company, he took a box full of cameras and a suitcase full of flashlights. The town named after his arrest already has a farm office building, a hardware store, a cafe and antique shop, a hotel, a baseball team, a primary school and a herbarium shop. There is a real main street, which looks a bit like a movie set in the old west. Every day except Sunday, long-distance buses pass by, operated by Santa Fe Trail Stage Company, with drivers in uniforms and passengers' luggage tied to the roof of a big car or Woody station wagon.

Lee came to Piton as part of the FSA project to document how the Great Depression ravaged rural America. Or as Magdalene News said in the June 6th issue of 1940: "Mr. Li from Dallas, Texas lives in Pieton, and he takes pictures of everything he can find. Mr. Li is a photographer of the United States Department of Agriculture. Most farmers are planting soybeans this week.

Is it that Lee Myung-bak's photo propaganda serves Washington * * *, and * * is bent on making the New Deal relief legislation pass Congress and be accepted by the American people? Of course. This is the first part of the FSA/OWI documentary project. (OWI stands for Office of War Intelligence: By the early 1940s, the focus of work had shifted from restoring rural areas in the United States to countries prepared for war. However, it is well-founded that many images of this project, such as the names of some producers such as Walker Evans, dorothea Langer, Arthur rostain and ben shane, Marion Post Walcott, John Vulcan, Gordon Parks and Russell Lee, have entered American cultural myths. About 65,438+064,000 FSA/OWI photos and negatives are put in a file cabinet with one drawer after another. I have been to a room in the Library of Congress many times. (Now most pictures can be found on the Internet://memory.loc.gov/ammem/fsohome.html ... Generally speaking, these pictures help us define what kind of country we are or what kind of people we want to be. They are like a short news film, which plays in our minds.

Li took many photos of Pietro's poor living conditions; He showed how difficult it was. His photos are not lying. However, the photos he took of people like Caudill almost made you forget the deprived life. Forgive them, because another person's feelings-sharing food and singing in the community church all day-are so strongly expressed. In front of Lee Kuan Yew's camera, the life of the Caudill family seems to tell the story of the courage and determination of a popular American.

Never mind, I know now that Thoreau's ideal of self-reliance has been seriously frustrated in this family in my so-called more rational and objective brain. For Doris and Farrow Caudill (and their daughter Josie, who was about 8 when Kai-Fu Lee took this photo), Pieton's dream was more like a nightmare. Farrow got sick, got lung disease, and the family moved away (just two years after taking photos). Farrow is looking for a job in the city, and Farrow is running around. What followed was a violent divorce. Doris has been married to another man for 39 years. She even went to Alaska to try the American dream of home again. A book about Caudill and their legends was published a few years ago, but especially a book about Doris: The Woman in Pie Town, written by Joan Myers, a new Mexican writer. 1942, when Faroe Caudill erected the gate at his home in Piton for the last time, he scribbled on the wood: A nearby department or hospital. "I think you can call us otaku," Judy said.

I met Brad Beacham, a sculptor. He is over 60 years old. He is a staff member of the town's tourism information center. On one side of an art gallery, there is a sign with these words written in yellow font. There is a big arrow pointing to the back of the gallery. Beauchamp, a pie citizen who was immediately friendly for ten years, was transplanted from San Diego and is his wife. In California, they have a horse farm. They want a simpler life. Now they own 90 acres of land, a log cabin and a series of quadrupeds. They are trying their best to make a living. Beauchamp, a slender drinker who recovered from a bicycle accident, talked about yoga, meditation and a million stars in the sky of New Mexico. "I really work hard." Calm down, "he said.

"Have you calmed down?" ?

"I still have a long way to go. You know, when you come to a place like this, you will take all your old things with you. But this is the place. We're not moving.

Because the sculptor is managing the visitor center, it seems reasonable to ask me if I can get some Piton literature.

"No," he broke up. "That's because we didn't. We have a tourist information center, but there is no information about Peter. If you like, we have brochures for many places. Outside the post office

On the bulletin board of the city, there is a handwritten notice: "Need". Community support for pie festival. 1) Organize a violin competition. 2) Friday, September 10 "All-day event planners are recruiting volunteers for the pie eating contest. Need a judge, clean gloves. There will be an election for the pie queen and the king. Looking for a candidate for this title. Sixty-four years ago, photographer Li wrote to his boss Roy Stryker in Washington: "They will hold a large community in Pieton next Sunday, singing food and drinks all day, so I will definitely participate here. "Earlier, Stryker wrote to Lee about Pieton:" Your photos, as far as possible, will have to point out some suggestions in your letter, that is, trying to integrate their lives into this land, so as to stay away from roads and relief books. It's as if the new story is an old story, only with a new mask and a tortuous plot.

Then the daily pie. I have been to some restaurants and there are many desserts on the menu, but this is ridiculous. Today's sacrifice is written on the felt tip of a pie picture on my head. In addition to ordinary apples, there are New Mexico apples (mixed with green peppers and pine nuts), peach and walnut chips, Boijsen berries (spelled in Pai Town), lime cheesecake (pie in Pai Town), strawberry rhubarb, peanut butter (pie), chocolate cake, chocolate walnuts, apple cranberry chips, triple berries, cherry Strauss, and two or three of them I already have. The pie chart changes every day on the daily pie chart, sometimes several times a day. The red dot next to the name means that there is at least a whole pie in the kitchen. 1 or 2 next to the name means that there are only one or two pieces left. Obviously, there will be no more until this variety appears again.

I bought a new Mexican apple, which is much more delicious. It's delicious. Now that I have tasted Piedun's best choice, I want to convey a happy fact, which may be implied: in the pie cafe every day-there are so many Piedun's life unfolding now-their service far exceeds pie. They cook a big breakfast and lunch six days a week and stay up until eight o'clock in the evening two days a week. They will be happy to work with you after six o'clock on Sunday afternoon. Did you take care of him at last?

"He takes care of himself. He died in that bed.

The whole family was on that day, May 9, 2000. Roy McKee came to Pieton a long time ago. He brought every adult child to him. What he said to everyone. Then he turned and crashed into the wall and died.