It’s π Day!
I love pie. It’s so much better than cake, mainly because of the gigantic hunks of fruit or nuts, and the miracle of a good crust, which blows gloppy icing or frosting out of the water every day of the week. If I’m making dessert, I’m probably gonna be making a pie.
That ugly pink piece of paper is one of my most prized possessions.
My recipe box, which looks like a woman who refuses to admit she needs to buy her jeans the next size up, has a special compartment reserved for The Really Good Stuff. In the Sacred Place Under the Lid, live a couple priceless treasures, and one of them is my recipe for Pecan Pie.
It’s handwritten, in my sister’s simple print, on a piece of pink paper that must be twenty years old. The stains prove its worth: like a Good Christian, the recipe’s been used and nearly destroyed by strange gods who claim to love it.
First, preheat the oven to 325°. (Making a pecan pie is an exercise in gentleness and patience. The low temperature is necessary for the pie to have the time to slowly reach its full potential.)
“There are two things that men should never weary of, goodness and humility; we get none too much of them in this rough world among cold, proud people.” -Robert Louis Stevenson, Kidnapped
The coolest thing about good pecan pie is this: pie is the most simple thing there is. It’s the melding of just a few basic humble things, in a way that doesn’t remove their individuality like baking a cake does, but allows them to remain themselves, while working with the other equally important ingredients to produce something that elevates every ingredient to it’s highest potential.
Cake is the often the destruction of things in order to create something entirely new, which often is so bland or dry it requires a covering of icing that is far too sweet. Pie is the gentle combination of humble ingredients. Pie is so much better than cake.
I pile as many pecans as I can into that cup. And, then I usually throw in a few more…
Gather your ingredients:
1 cup of sugar
1 cup of white Karo syrup
3 eggs
2 tablespoons melted butter (do not, ever, under any circumstances, use margarine. I repeat: absolutely never use margarine.)
1 cup pecans
1 teaspoon pure vanilla
¼ teaspoon salt
1 pie crust (your own, or Marie Callendar’s-either is fine.)
Now, part of the secret of making a good pecan pie, and a good friendship for that matter, is to realize the ingredients you’re working with have weaknesses that are often bound up in their strengths, and then, doing what you can to protect them. Pie crusts are the strength of a pie, but they are also weak. The edges are prone to burning. Protect the edges of the crust by covering them carefully with good aluminum foil, and then place the pie crust on a cookie sheet, and set it aside.
Beat the eggs until fluffy.
With a fork. In a simple bowl. Don’t use anything that needs to be plugged in. Remember, pecan pie is simple.
Add in the sugar and syrup, the melted butter, the vanilla, and the nuts.
“Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication” -Leonardo Da Vinci
Good pies, like life, are sweet, with a tinge of bitterness that usually comes from sadness, some softness, and bit of savory zing. Combine these things gently until they’re just getting to know each other, but still able to be themselves, with a rubber spatula.
Pour into the prepared pie crust and bake for 1 to 1 ½ hours or so, until the pie is set firmly.
“Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day.” -A. A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh
This is the secret, and the nearly overwhelming frustration, of making pecan pie, and developing good friendships: they take time. And, always more time than we want them to. Yes, I could mess with the recipe and the oven temperature, turn up the oven and have a passable pecan pie in forty-five minutes, but it will never ever be as good as the one I leave alone and allow to gently cook slowly, for as long as it takes. Every time I make pecan pies, the amount of time they need to bake is different. They always seem to take *forever*, but, when they come out, and I serve them warm with a good cup of coffee to people I love, I know that time was worth it. The same is true of people: they take time to grow into what they are going to be. Constant interference and prodding is going to irritate them and make them bitter, but ignoring them is just as bad; relationships often burn from neglect.
“Like all magnificent things, it’s very simple.” -Natalie Babbit, Tuck Everlasting
Making pecan pie is simple, really, and it teaches me a necessary lesson: let things become what they are becoming at their own pace. Don’t rush. Don’t destroy the ingredients in an effort to make something better. Let things meld together as they are meant to.
(A note about the pictures: I made the pies in the photographs with store-bought crusts, which always come in packages of two. Therefore, I made two pies. If’n you wanna do the same, prepare the ingredients for each pie separately. Don’t attempt to double the recipe and then divide it into two crusts.)
Today, enjoy your life and appreciate your loved ones. Kick your shoes off, put some good music on, and make a pie.