37. All About the Crust.

I have had a love affair with cookbooks for as long as I can remember.   I've read them like most women read novels. While I was still at home, my mom loved for me to cook.  Watching me made her very nervous so she usually left the house.  All I had to do was tell her what I wanted to fix and she would see to it that the ingredients were there, just not her.  Funny, huh.  She did manage to teach me how to make a great pie crust.  For that I am forever grateful.  If my waist line would co-operate, I would wrap everything in pie crust!  

Several years ago we lived in Houston, Texas, where some of Bob's relatives lived, while Bob was going to welding school there. That Thanksgiving I volunteered to make the pecan pies for the family dinner. I got all the ingredients and set to the task at hand.  I use the recipe on the molasses bottle.  It's always really good and easy.  Down below the filling recipe was a recipe for "The best possible crust for your pecan pie."  I thought, hmmm.  What the heck, let's try it.  Rule number one:  Never try a new recipe when you are serving company.  Rule number two: Never try a new recipe when you are serving company.  And so on!  The only good part of this story is that even after all these years (1975) we still laugh about it.  As I kneaded the dough, I thought...hmmm...this feels a little tough.  But, on ward ever on ward.  The pies were picture perfect when I took them from the oven.  Another stunning pie crust achievement!  I was so proud! 

We arrived at Bob's cousin's house, pies in hand.  The dinner was wonderful.  We even played some Mexican dominoes.  Texan's love dominoes.  After the last game everyone said, "Let's cut the pies!"  Blushing with pride, I went to the kitchen.  Bob came to help.  I made the first cut. That is, I tried to make the first cut.  When I got to the beautifully fluted edge of the crust, I was completely unable to force the knife through that beautiful flute!  What I initially thought was the glass pan turned out to be the crust!  We snickered, we giggled and then we howled!  Bob helped me chisel out one piece and I proudly carried the first piece into the living room without a plate, holding it with my thumb and fore finger by the point of the slice.  In all my pie making days, I have never seen a tougher crust.  Amid howls of laughter and tears running down our faces, we all attacked the pies with spoons.  Who needs crust among friends.   

This last Thanksgiving I made myself a pumpkin pie without the crust.  Sad, but true, it has come to this.  I love the filling so I was OK with it, but I have to admit there is not much on this earth that tastes as good as my mother's pie crust.   Except maybe her chocolate cake or her homemade noodles or her rice pudding or...