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Pie Stories
 



Aunt Ella's Cherry Pie

My great Aunt Ella called Northern Michigan her home for nearly ninety years. As an unmarried schoolteacher, she spent her summers as a baker at the local “Grand View of the Lake Inn.” The inn was located on the shores of beautiful Lake Michigan and across the road from a cherry orchard; a perfect combination for breathtaking views and fresh, homemade cherry pies. Tourists would line up for hours to take in dinner, a golden sunset and a piece of my aunt’s heavenly pie. My aunt loved her life, inspiring both students in the classroom and pie lovers at the inn, year after year. Unfortunately, time does not stand still, for the inn and my sweet aunt are long gone. Thankfully, Aunt Ella’s cherished pie recipe was passed down to me for us all to enjoy. Aunt Ella’s passionate, yet simple life was rich and full and successful by the true meaning of success – inspiring others.  Eat pie and live passionately.
 



Johnny's Coconut Cream Pie

One of my most memorable dates with my husband was a picnic in the park. I wanted to display my cooking talents to my new beau, so I planned to make everything myself. I had decided on fried chicken, cole slaw, baked beans and coconut cream pie for the menu. I had helped my mom in the kitchen my whole life so none of this was daunting for me except the illusive piecrust. I spent hours trying to roll out the pie dough, but had failed miserably each and every time. I was ready to quit altogether when my mother walked into the kitchen after a long day at work. She saw my despair and patiently taught me the art of pie baking. Alas, the pie was delicious, the picnic a success and we were engaged a few years later. However, to this day, my husband claims he was ready to ask me to marry him at that picnic because I made such a delicious pie. Oh, the power of pie. Eat pie and never stop trying.
 



Aunt Margie's Raspberry & Cream Pie
While growing up in Michigan, my twin sister and I would spend a week of the summer at my dear Aunt Margie’s farm. For us, no week was ever more anticipated. One of the highlights of the week was Saturday Baking Day. We started baking, at dawn in my Aunt’s tiny, pink kitchen to avoid the heat of the summer day. My Aunt rolled out the crust. My sister prepared the fresh raspberry layer, and I stirred the creamy custard filling. Each summer, the three of us consistently turned out a beautiful and delicious pie. I remember how I couldn’t wait until Uncle Howard came home for supper so we could eat our masterpiece. Oh, how the day lingered. Lucky for you, you don’t have to wait for Uncle Howard.  Eat pie, and be patient.
 



Granny's Apple Pie
There was nothing our family enjoyed more than our summers at Granny’s farm in West Virginia. The homestead sat on the top of a picturesque mountain with a creek running next to it. The farm itself was a bit rundown, but beautiful to me, with plenty of flower and vegetable gardens and dozens of chickens running about. There was always plenty of fine storytelling, bluegrass music and delicious, homegrown food to share at the farm. I loved to watch my grandmother work magic in the kitchen; her biscuits and gravy were legendary but her apple pie was my favorite.  The apple filling was tart, yet sweet, and the crumb topping was buttery with just a hint of nutmeg and cinnamon. I can still see Granny and me on her porch swing, peeling apples and listening to her recall tall tales of her childhood. Those were the days. Eat pie, and cherish your heritage.
 



Aunt Margie's Banana Cream Pie
My Aunt Margie was one of those special people that exuded love in everything she did.  All that knew her felt her love and instinctively gave it right back. Life was simply better with Auntie Margie around. When she came to visit our whole family would anxiously await her arrival. We could hardly wait to see her pull up in her blue Buick packed with gifts for us kids. She routinely brought us chewing gum, comic books and her famous banana cream pie. Occasionally, I would be the lucky one that got to bring the pie in from her car, which was quite a responsibility for a little miss. I remember staring at its perfection and being terrified that I would drop it, knowing that my brothers would never forgive me. Gratefully, the glorious pie always made it into the house unscathed. My dear aunt taught my family and all those that knew her that loving people unconditionally is the secret to life.  Eat pie and give love.
 



Mommy's Blackberry Raspberry Pie

While growing up, my family would spend a week camping in northern Michigan overlooking Lake Michigan.  The big lake was breathtakingly beautiful, but routinely ice cold. As kids, we didn’t care and frolicked in the waves from dawn until dusk. One of the highlights of our week was going to Leland, a charming little village on the harbor.  We would browse the unique shops and take home fresh smoked whitefish, bread and cheese.  We also would stop at a local farm-stand to pick up home-grown sweet corn, tomatoes and sweet blackberries. My brothers, sister and I were very excited about the day excursion to Leland, but couldn’t wait to get back to the campsite, for we knew we were in store for a treat!  For you see, my mother was a master at outdoor cooking and she made the most delicious blackberry cobbler in her dutch oven that we had ever had!  No meal was more anticipated.  We ate smoked whitefish, fresh tomatoes and sweet corn and the most delicious blackberry cobbler ever while watching Lake Michigan’s beautiful sunset. Perfect memory.  Eat pie and delight in your perfect memories.
 



Grandma Rosella's Blueberry Pie
To me, my Grandpa was a quiet, melancholy man, unable to find peace from my Grandma’s death years before I was born. However, on one summer evening, many years ago, I saw a different side t o him that I will always treasure. My Grandpa and I were talking on his front porch when the subject turned to my Grandma’s cooking.  Suddenly, his stoic demeanor changed as he smiled and reminisced about her tender pork roast, bread & butter pickles and her delicious blueberry pie. He said that my Grandma always made a blueberry pie for his birthday and his blue eyes sparkled as he recalled the crust and the sweet berry filling. I was stunned that I stumbled on something as simple as pie to make my Grandpa smile. After hearing his testimony, my mother and I made sure Grandpa received a birthday blueberry pie for the rest of his years. My Grandpa’s reverie made me realize at a young age that pie can compose unforgettable memories.  Eat pie, and cherish birthdays.
 



Linda Ruth's Key Lime Pie

I remember the mixed emotions in the house back in the seventies, when my father announced that he and Mom were attending a convention in Miami, Florida. My mother was especially excited, for Miami was becoming quite the hot-spot for vacationers. Of course, all five of us kids were excluded from this mini vacation: hence, we were extremely disappointed. For just days before I had read in a cookbook about key lime pie and how popular it was in Florida and most importantly, how delicious an authentic one was. I asked my parents to bring me back a slice, so I too, could enjoy a bit of the sunshine state. The week lingered for I couldn’t wait for them to get home, mostly because I was so hoping they would return with my yummy slice of pie. The day they were to return, I received a postcard addressed only to me from my parents. On the front of the postcard was a beautiful picture of a key lime pie and the card read, Wish you were here, we will make one when we get home…Love Mom and Dad. Though they did not come home with pie and as much as I wanted the real thing, I was delighted they remembered me with my own postcard. A few weeks later we made our own key lime pie and I loved it. It is still one of my favorite pies. Eat pie and appreciate good intentions.

 



Grandma Rosella's Lemon Meringue Pie

My father grew up during the depression on a small farm in Michigan. Like most folks during that troubled time, they did not have much money. Fruit that didn’t grow in your own backyard was considered special and hard to come by. When my grandmother made lemon meringue pie, it was for special occasions only, such as Easter or company dinners. One summer Sunday in 1937, Reverend Frye was scheduled to come to dinner at my father’s farm. My grandmother awoke at dawn to make the special lemon pie and placed it in the dining room window to cool while they were off to church. Unfortunately, Zip the beagle found the pie too much to resist and found a way to reach Grandma’s masterpiece. Upon their return, nothing was left of the beautiful pie, but an empty pie pan and a contented dog sleeping with meringue stuck to his nose. Zip was sent to the barn from that day forward and poor Reverend Fry never got to enjoy my Grandma’s pie that summer day so long ago. Fortunately for you, you can.  Eat pie and embrace the unexpected.
 



Grandma Ferrell's Sweetie Pie
While growing up, my dear maternal grandmother lived nearly 500 miles away, so we were unable to spend the Christmas holidays together. However, my grandma always made it special by sending our family a Christmas box filled with presents and delicious homemade foods. My brothers and sister and I eagerly anticipated the call that the box had arrived at the bus station. We all drove down together in the family station wagon to bring it home. On Christmas morning, it was always the last box to be opened, yet certainly the sentimental favorite. The gifts were always unpredictable, fun and silly.  The food was steadfast, revered and delicious, e specially her beloved Sweetie Pie pie. The flaky crust, toasted pecans, chocolate and caramel made for a perfect Christmas day dessert and knowing that my sweet grandmother made it just for us made it absolutely unforgettable.  Eat pie and keep traditions.
 



Linda's Chocolate Cream Pie

While growing up, my family would occasionally stop after church for lunch at a neighborhood diner. When my daddy pulled into the parking lot, all of us kids went crazy with excitement because back then, eating out was a special treat and it didn’t happen often. Of course there were restrictions, my parents limited all five of us kids to choose just one item for lunch with water to drink. The choices were usually a cheeseburger or a piece of pie, but never both. For my siblings, this was always a difficult decision, but not for me. Desserts were then and continue to be, a major love of my life. I always chose pie, chocolate cream pie precisely. I loved its flaky crust, creamy filling and the homemade whipped cream topping. It was always delicious and I never once regretted my decision.  Eat pie and make good decisions.
 



Mommy's Rhubarb Custard Pie
When I think of my mother, I think of her in the kitchen. She loved to cook and bake and deemed it as her hobby. All I know for sure is something magical happened in our tiny, turquoise kitchen and our family’s breakfasts, lunches and dinners were the miraculous proof. My favorites dishes were her chicken and dumplings and lasagna, but mostly I loved her pies, especially her rhubarb custard pie. When my mommy made pies for church potlucks and family reunions she always, always brought home an empty pie tin. My Daddy always told me how lucky I was to have a mother that could bake a perfect pie. I am lucky and so are you. Eat pie and feel lucky.
 



Aunt Grace's Peach Pie
When my mother was about seven, she remembers padding barefoot along a well-worn sandy path that connected her southern West Virginia farm to Aunt Grace’s. My great aunt’s house was a weathered wooden structure flanked by two great pine trees, resting in a horseshoe of luscious, green hills. She remembers the lovely, sweet scent of roses, phlox and heliotrope coming from her garden. But the delicious smell that stamps itself in her memory is one of freshly baked pies wafting from her kitchen window. Best of all, dear Aunt Grace lovingly welcomed my mother and always shared from her table. My mother can attest that her peach pie, unbeatable at the county fair, had the taste of heaven.  Eat pie and share with others.
 



Mrs. Cochran's Pecan Pie

While growing up in Michigan, our family lived in an older, quaint neighborhood with mature trees and well manicured lawns. Throughout the years, neighbors would come and go, but there was one couple that lived next door that made a lasting impression on all of us. The Cochrans were a worldly, middle-aged couple with no children of their own. In retrospect, I am certain that our lively family of seven probably seemed hectic to the reserved pair, although I think they enjoyed our chaos. All of us children loved the Cochrans and relished any opportunity to be invited into their serene home to listen to travel stories and eat cinnamon candy! I remember one special day when Mrs. Cochran asked my sister and me into her sun-filled kitchen for a piece of pie. She served the creamy pie on delicate bone china with beautiful lace napkins, both family heirlooms. I remember feeling so loved and special while eating her delicious pecan pie.  Eat pie and love your neighbors.
 



Melinda's Rhubarb Pie

My dear, dear sister-in-law, Melinda is one endearing woman. She is full of fun and has a smile that lights up a room and warms your heart. She always is doing lovely things for other people – taking older relatives to church and doctor appointments and making delicious meals and desserts for the down-hearted and lonely. She simply loves to make someone’s average day a wonderful one. Melinda’s  homemade Rhubarb Pie is loved by all who receive one, especially by her adoring family. The pink sweet-tart filling and flaky crust are a perfect combination for this early summer pie. There is nothing better then to see her with a glorious pie in her arms and a smile on her face. Melinda is indeed a woman we should all emulate. She lives her life simply and beautifully – giving to others her time, her laughter and her love. Eat pie and give to others your loving time.
 



Mommy's Pumpkin Pie

Several years ago my parents had a fire in the home they have shared for over forty years. Fortunately, no one was injured; however, being out of their home during renovation through the holiday season was difficult. I assured my parents that Christmas would be as special as always and that I would host the dinner. My mother insisted on preparing the holiday ham and pumpkin pies and my sister and I agreed to make the rest of the trimmings. However, because my mother was not familiar with her temporary kitchen, she burned the ham black while our mashed potatoes were lumpy and the cranberries were frozen. Our only salvation through this disastrous dinner was the anticipation of Mom’s pumpkin pies. We were not disappointed. The pie never tasted better, the buttery crust and creamy filling was perfect. They truly made the meal complete. I think my whole family realized at that point, not only how grateful we were to be all together, alive and healthy, but also how much we appreciate good pie.  Eat pie and be grateful.
 



Aunt Ruby's Butterscotch Praline Pie

My hard working Aunt Ruby lived at the bottom of a hill in beautiful West Virginia She had magnificent gardens and orchards and canned everything from tangy watermelon pickles to sweet molasses. When my family came to call we would visit while admiring her gardens, quilts and canning cellar. However, the highlight of the day was clearly Aunt Ruby’s homemade dinner. The spread was magnificent- pickles of every sort, green beans and corn, biscuits with homemade apple butter and delicious chicken and dumplings. Of course, my favorite was dessert and her creamy butterscotch pie! The flaky crust, creamy filling and crunchy pecans made for a perfect pie. My Aunt Ruby worked hard all of her sweet life and was very proud of all that she accomplished. Her work ethic and passion for life are true tenets to live by.  Eat pie and work hard at all you do.
 



Grandma Rosellla's Vanilla Bean Cream Pie
Back during the bleak Depression, my Daddy’s cousin, Janette came to live with his family for a few special years. Janette’s father had had seven children when his wife suffered a nervous breakdown and was sent away for treatment. He worked long hours at Ford Motor Company and was unable to care for his children alone. Hence, all seven children were sent separately to live with relatives until the family could get back on its feet. As hard as this was for Janette, she found great peace and love in my Daddy’s home that influenced her for the rest of her life. Janette recalls how my grandmother would rock her to sleep, make her new dresses and bake her vanilla cream pies.    These seemingly small acts of kindness proved to be extraordinary influences for a needy, insecure little girl. Janette’s family was reunited a few years later, however, she says that her favorite childhood memories were with my Grandmother eating pies and feeling loved. Eat pie and open your heart to others.
 



Grandma Ferrell's Strawberry & Cream Pie
My mother grew up in rural West Virginia and every year their little town hosted a very popular Strawberry Festival. The festival attracted people from around the sdtate - perfect for my Grandmother Ferrell who owned an old boarding house with a small but adorable restaurant on the back porch. In the early summer when strawberries were in season and the festival was in full swing, Grandma's house was bustling with guests. People loved to stay there because not only was she a warm and loving hostess, but she happened to make the beset Strawberry & Cream pie in the state. They lined up in the street for her tender crust, creamy filling and sweet berry slice of heaven. Her beautiful personality and perfect pie make people come again and again to enjoy my Grandmother's charm and baking talents. Eat pie and be charming.