A Legacy of Pie

Happy Thanksgiving friends! In an effort to distinguish myself from every other recipe blog post, I’m going to post the recipe first. Also, this saves me from spending an hour on google and YouTube trying to figure out how to add a “jump to recipe” button. You can read the story after – while the pies are in the oven. 😉🥧

The Gould Family Pumpkin Pie Recipe (makes 2 of the best pies)

THE CRUST

• 2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 1 1/8 cups shortening
• 1 egg
• 1 Tbsp vinegar
• cold water

Mix flour and salt together. Cut in shortening with a pastry blender. Beat the egg in a 2-cup liquid measuring cup and stir in vinegar. Add enough cold water until the mixture equals 1 1/2 cups. Add just enough liquid to the dry ingredients so the dough holds together, a few tablespoons at a time – usually about 10-11 tablespoons. Divide dough in half, roll out on a heavily floured counter, and place in a greased pie pan. Makes 2 crusts.

THE PIE FILLING

• 2 – 15oz cans pure pumpkin
• 2 cans sweetened condensed milk
• 2 eggs
• 1 tsp salt
• 1 tsp cinnamon
• 1/2 tsp nutmeg
• 1/2 tsp ground cloves
• 1/2 tsp ground ginger

Mix all ingredients together and pour into pie crusts. Bake at 350 degrees for about an hour or until the center has puffed up.

Thanksgiving has always held a special place in my heart. I love Christmas – the decorations, the food, the parties and traditions, the sparkling snow, the music. But Thanksgiving is contemplative – the colorful crunchy leaves, the crisp autumn air, the warmth and coziness invite a spirit of reflection and gratitude. I love the gathering of family, of friends old and new, eating, talking, laughing, sharing old tales and making new memories. And in recent years, Thanksgiving has become even more meaningful to me because it provides a connection to my dad.

See, my dad taught me how to make pumpkin pies. He was something of an experimental cook. There was an omelet phase, where we ate egg concoctions with various fillings 3-4 times a week. There was the homemade whole wheat bread phase. Each loaf weighed about 5 pounds and was as dry as could be, but we dutifully used it for toast and sandwiches. Then there was the zucchini phase, because we had a garden that summer, and when you plant one zucchini you inevitably end up with 100. My dad was also a bodybuilder and a bit of a health nut. One year he decided to invent a healthier version of sour cream. He put some cottage cheese in a blender, added a few seasonings, and named the resulting mixture “spud mud” (for use on baked potatoes). To be honest, that was probably his least successful invention. For the love of all that is good and holy, just eat the sour cream!

The pumpkin pie recipe was different – it was tried and true. The crust part came from my grandmother, and she taught him how to make it. I can still envision the recipe card it was written on. The title was “101-year-old Pie Crust”. How old is the recipe really? I have no idea. And I honestly don’t know where the filling part of the recipe came from. But I do know that every year I can remember, we had two pumpkin pies. To this day, they are the best tasting ones I’ve ever had. Thanksgiving meant watching my dad ease the crusts into a pie pan, or helping him cover the scraps with butter and cinnamon-sugar to make crust cookies, or savoring with him a few cold pieces of pie for breakfast on the morning after.

Before I left home for college, my dad gave me the recipes and taught me how to make the crusts. This is becoming a lost art, I think. What was once a commonplace task is now usually left to professionals. After I got married, whether we were hosting the turkey feast, or were invited elsewhere, I offered to bring pie. Gradually I added other pies to my repertoire- apple, bumbleberry, maple pecan. My friends nicknamed me “the pie goddess”. I developed a love of baking, which expanded to cakes and cheesecakes and fondant and gum paste work, and eventually turned into a side business for several years.

Maybe it’s because of the pie connection, but I do feel a little closer to, and miss my dad a little more, around the holidays. He’s been gone over six years now, suddenly and too soon. He gave me so much – my hazel eyes, my love of football, and my sense of humor. He taught me to think analytically and to not back down from the challenges of life. He was foundational to the forming of my faith as I was growing up. He was a great conversationalist and encourager. Through all the ups and downs over the years, his presence in my life deepened my understanding of love and family. I can see his legacy continue on in my own kids – common sense, and stubbornness, and love, and sarcasm, and pie. Sometimes it’s the little things, you know? I’ve taught both my kids to make crust from scratch. They both have high standards when it comes to pumpkin pie, and they’ll both eat a cold piece on black Friday morning. It’s another connection – me to them, and them to their grandfather.

Wednesday I was rummaging through my best friend’s kitchen, wearing a homemade apron and pulling out mixing bowls and measuring spoons, flour and spices. Soft music was playing in the background as I worked the rolling pin, alone with my thoughts. Every once in a while, someone would poke their head into the kitchen and ask if I was ok, if I needed anything.
“No,” I would reply. “I’m good. I’m happy.”