The day formerly known as monday, the pie recipe

I no longer use a traditional calendar to count the days. I, like so many of us, am living on pandemic time. Most days I don’t know what today is or yesterday was, and there is a certain kind of presence to that. Today, however, is about pie. Bourbon pecan pie to be exact. I have made this pie so many times over the years, usually sneaking a shot or two of bourbon into the mixture when my mother wasn’t looking. She always did love that pie, and I never confessed my secret ingredient. My Dad however, I believe did know, and always coyly asked for a second slice. So today is pie day , and tomorrow is mushroom pasta day and the day after spatchcock chicken day. I like this better. The days counted in menus. Takes the dread out of the day formerly known as Monday.

In the past I would have rushed to bake this, bought a pre-made crust and whipped it together. Today I pulled out my cookbooks and took a deep breath as I combined ingredients and made a simple crust and mixed the filling. In the end it was beautiful and one of the best pies I have ever made. I believe you can taste love in food.

Several years ago I was the cook/chef/dishwasher/one man show at a new cafe in town. I roasted meats, baked treats, and menu planned for the season. At 10 am one morning, a man walked in and ordered a slice of ginger cake and coffee. Clearly a man after my own heart, I love cake for breakfast. Eventually the barista came to the kitchen and said the gentleman out front would like to talk to me. He was a stranger in a town filled with regulars and repeat weekenders. He raved about the cake. He said he could taste the love it was made with and he thanked me. His enthusiasm for that early morning slice was a surprise. Eventually he gently took my hand and said;

“You pour all your love into this cake but you are sad.”

I froze, how did he see me that clearly, I thought I was a better faker. He went on to talk about God, my heart, and the future. Before he was done I was in tears, my soul exposed over ginger cake. When he left, I knew I would not see him again. As I walked back to the kitchen my barista asked what had happen.

“ I believe I just met an angel.”

“Wow, that was powerful cake.”  He said as he looked down and continued cleaning glassware.

That day, one I have never forgotten, is the first time I considered the power of intention while cooking. The fact that you can taste emotion. Now as a practice I take a breath before starting anything. The making has its own ritual. Thank the animal, be present with the preparation, stir gently and be patient. It is a dance.

Anyway, Thank you pie day. Day formerly known as Monday. I look forward to the dance, to the creation and a love in every bite.

Pie Shell

1 1/2 cup flour
1 tsp. salt
2 tsp sugar
1/2 cup oil
2 Tablespoons milk

Mix Dry ingredients together with a fork directly in the pie pan. Make a well in the center and add the oil and milk. Stir it all up and spread the crust out in pan. It will go from being crumbly to a dough as you work it to the edges and up the sides. Be patient. (You won’t need too much it happens fast) Make sure the dough is evenly spread throughout the bottom and up the sides.

Filling:

1 cup sugar
3 Tablespoons melted butter
1/2 cup dark corn syrup
3 eggs beaten
1 1/2 cups pecan halves
2 Tablespoons Bourbon
9 inch deep dish pie shell

Directions

Preheat oven to 375 F

In a bowl stir together the sugar and melted butter. Add the corn syrup, eggs, pecans, and bourbon and stir till all ingredients are combined.

Pour into unbaked pie shell and place on a cookie sheet. Bake for 10 minutes and lower heat to 350 F. Bake for 25 more minutes or until pie is set.

My oven takes a little longer and I keep an eye on the filling, so if yours is not set at 25 minutes just keep adding time.

Let the pie cool completely and enjoy.