My gramma was an angel. She was also the best pie maker in the universe. She taught me how to make pies.
I think of her every time I roll out the dough with her special glass rolling pin and slice up the Gravensteins, Granny Smiths or a combination of three or more varieties of perfect apples.
How do you make such good pies Gramma?
"Well honey, it’s easy...just a little bit of this, a pinch of that, fresh ingredients, don’t handle the dough too much and as long as you’re making a pie — make it BIG.”
She’d give me a smile and I wanted to join in the fun.
So I watched, very closely.
One time I even took photos and tried to write everything down. The recipes were in her head and her measurements were smell, touch and feel. It was hard to follow, I stopped writing and just kept watching.
She must have made thousands of yummy pies. A lifetime filled with pies.
Here’s a sweet thought: My grandpa had pie everyday for lunch! (Apple, chocolate, blackberry, peach, pear, strawberry rhubarb, mincemeat, pumpkin, cherry, lemon meringue.)
Pop even had a pie shaped container that fit inside his large, black tin lunch pail. Every single day he had a piece of pie.
I love making pies but every time I wonder…”Is this going to turn out? Is the crust going to be flaky? Not sweet enough, too sweet."
I guess that’s part of the fun and the magic and mystery of not knowing, waiting for the official taster's approval.
It’s always, a little flour, oh maybe a little more flour, a pinch of salt, a cup or so of milk ... a bit of butter, some lemon, a few more apples, a touch of cinnamon, a tad more butter on top, swirls of honey and the special most important, secret pie ingredient she passed on to me — bake with a lot of Love.
Oh! Don’t forget the ice cream.
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