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(post, Christina Eng)
Boston cream pie. That, I have decided, will be my Inauguration Day pie. We ate it all through college on the East Coast, dessert following Saturday night meals in the Ratty. The only reason really to tolerate the turkey tet. Boston cream pie. It reminds me of the people I met from across the country: black girls and guys from Florida and New Jersey, white guys from Mississippi, Japanese Americans from Hawaii, friends I made at school years ago, 3,000 miles from home. So many times we talked, and laughed out loud, in the dining hall. Fitting then, I think, as we welcome a new American president – one whose experiences and aspirations mirror our own, whose rhetoric and demeanor we appreciate and admire – to enjoy good pie. Chocolate frosting, sweet cream, spongy cake. I will eat a slice with my coffee this morning, and turn on the television. I might even have seconds.