It’s the End of the World as we know it: I want pie

Joslin’s post on LadySherpa this week got me thinking: If the Mayan End of Days is really here, and I could go anywhere, do anything, what would I do?

The answer came to me as clear as hard apple cider in a pint glass: Oxford.

Specifically, Pie Minister in Oxford’s covered market,

So I could eat this:

Then, I’d grab a pint of cider at the White Horse and take a stroll, breathing in the cold damp air, and soaking in the warm gold tones of the college buildings. Maybe take in an evensong.

Before grabbing another savory pastry: The Cornish Pasty

It’s said that the Devil will never cross the border into Cornwall for fear of becoming yet another filling in a Cornish pasty. That is my kind of cooking.

I’d finish off my last day on earth with a latte at Puccino’s, just outside the covered market. It’s a funky student hangout with funny phrases scrawled on welcoming yellow walls, and it’s just cozy, in the way coffee shops in cold places are always cozy. I’d climb up to the second floor and sit between the window and the blue door and watch, with my latte, as the world comes to an end.

All photos by WanderFood