First Pie, Last Pie
Although I had every intention of baking a pie for March, with my grandfather’s passing, I just wasn’t up for it. I started this blog series as a way to improve my pie making skills so that I could carry on my grandmother’s baking traditions. It also became a cozy place to reflect on some of my favorite memories of my grandparents. The pie I made for February (sour cherry), was the first cherry pie I’d ever made, and the last pie I ever got to bake for my grandfather. I’m so glad I had the opportunity to make him his favorite pie. I tried to put my all into the decorations to make it a memorable one. April’s pie marks the first time my grandfather won’t be one of my taste testers. With all of these firsts and last swirling around, I decided that I would go way back to the beginning, and revisit the first pie I ever made…
Baking Up Memories
I was in middle school the first time I ever made a pie. My baking skills were still new and small, but my Grandma must have been confident in me, because she decided one rainy afternoon that I was to have my first pie lesson. We stood side by side in the kitchen. She showed me how to work the shortening into the flour, and sprinkle it with ice water. I copied her instructions on my own batch of dough. We filled out pie shells with boxed My*T*Fine lemon filling (Grandma’s favorite!), and topped them with towering fluffy meringue. I was so proud! Once our pies cooled, I carried mine into their itty-bitty sitting room.
“Look at the pie I made!” I announced. My mother and grandfather were trying to watch TV, but that didn’t stop me from dancing right into their line of sight.
“Look! Look! It’s beautiful!”
I kept dancing, raising the pie over my head, swooping it low under my mom’s nose. Maximum goofiness.
“Be careful with that,” Mom warned. “You’ll drop it.”
“No I won’t!” I said, high kicking like a Rockette. It was time for the big finale. I quickly spun to the left, and my pie spun to the right, sliding right out of its glass dish. It flipped midair and plummeted, meringue side down onto the floor.
Needless to say, my mother was right.
There was pie everywhere. Lemon on the TV stand, on the side table, egg whites on the carpet—even under the carpet! (Don’t ask me how that’s possible!)
I was given a bucket of soapy water and a rag. Sheepishly I scrubbed up the splatter. My mom and grandfather weren’t too happy. But my grandmother just gave a shrug and a quirk of a smile.
“It’s all right,” she said.
At least we had a backup.
The Result
For the first time I didn’t feel frazzled while making the crust! I actually felt calm. There are so many variables that can go wrong when making crust, and usually something goes wrong for me. But this time I managed to avoid some of my previous mistakes (like chilling the dough until it becomes an un-rollable rock!). I was able to get into the flow without nervously checking my recipe 100 times. I think that’s a good sign! The process is becoming more familiar and my confidence is increasing! Definitely a win!
Farm Journal’s recipe for lemon filling shares a lot of DNA with their recipe for coconut cream pie filling. Both rely on a substantial amount of corn starch to thicken the mixture, (in this case a whopping 1/2 cup!). A combination of fresh lemon juice and zest give the filling that tart zip that makes you suck your cheeks in.
For the most part, the filling set up, but it was still a bit wobbly and runny in some places. I did some research and found that this may indicate that the filling was undercooked (unlikely), or the filling was overcooked (possibly). I’ll have to perform more tests to dial in the right cook time.
Even with the split filling, this pie was a HUGE step up from boxed mix. The flavor was refreshing and bright, and the texture had more substance. As I ate, it coated my tongue in a really pleasant way. The real test though was my grandma. She ate a surprisingly big slice. Her review?…
“This is a damn good pie!”
It doesn’t get much better than that!
