Anyone who knows me well, knows that I like to experiment in the kitchen. I love combining different flavors, modifying recipes and trying new things. Some of my best dishes were created on impulse or by accident. And some have ended up as inedible disasters!
My husband, James, doesn't talk much about my cooking--at least not in my presence. However, if I ever make something he doesn't like or something that's "not quite right", he will, in a gentle manner, let me know. And just as in most other aspects of life, you learn some of your most valuable lessons in the kitchen by making big mistakes.
One of my biggest blunders in the kitchen happened when Jaxson was a baby. James was working for a construction company and we would take lunch to him every day so he could enjoy time with his little boy on his lunch break. I would usually pack a lunch consisting of left overs from our meal the night before. I'm known to get a little creative with left overs too. That way, you don't feel like you are eating the same thing over and over again.
On that day, I had some left over roast and pinto beans in the fridge. So I decided to chop up some of the roast, add barbecue sauce and make barbecue sandwiches. There were several times I had either heard the phrase or seen in magazines or on menus "barbecue beans". So I added some barbecue sauce to the beans, as well. I packed up our lunch "fixins", filled up the tea jug and we were off!
After we arrived at James' work site, he hopped in the car and quickly wolfed down a sandwich. The beans were still a little hot from heating them up, so he opened up the lid to let them cool off while he played with Jaxson. All of a sudden, I picked up a rather strong menthol-ey scent.
I asked James, "Do you have a cold?"
He looked at me rather oddly and said, "No. I feel fine."
Then he took his first bite of beans. He stopped chewing, looked up at me with a furrowed brow and spit the beans back into his spoon.
He had a rather twisted expression on his face when he asked me, "Did you put Vicks in these beans?"
Then we both started laughing! To this day, I don't know what caused it, but some sort of chemical process occurred by mixing pinto beans with barbecue sauce that made them smell and taste like Vicks Vapo Rub. Perhaps it was the flavor of barbecue sauce or maybe it had reacted with the small amount of baking soda I added to the beans to reduce the "gaseous" after effects of the beans. Who knows? But I can assure of this, I have never and will never add barbecue sauce to pinto beans EVER again! I won't add baking soda either!
A lot of memories can be made through food--good AND not so good. We always have a good laugh any time I ask James what he wants for supper and he replies, "I don't care, just not any Vicks n' Beans!"
Much Love & Happy Cooking!
Monday, December 19, 2011
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Treasure Box
My sister Marci, who left us too soon at the unripened age of 30 in 1987, loved to cook and sew. She was creative--and she was fun-loving. One of my most precious mementos of her is her recipe box. It is one of the few tangible connections to her I have. How I love going through those recipes! I can almost feel her sitting next to me at the table, with her curled inward left hand holding the marker over the index card, precisely printing out the letters of each ingredient and instruction.
After she was gone, it took me a while to be able to open the box. It was almost too painful to look inside. But a few years ago, I was needing a recipe for Spiced Tea Mix. You know--the kind you mix up, put in jars decorated with pretty ribbon and give as Christmas gifts. I knew Marci had a recipe for that. So I found the recipe box in the back of my kitchen cabinet. I took a deep breath and opened the lid. And there it was--the very first recipe I pulled from the box was Spiced Tea Mix!
I smiled. Just like so many other times before, I felt her presence. As I was thumbing through the recipes, I found one that actually made me laugh out loud. It is the one in the middle of the picture above; homemade Cranberry Wine.
I have often wondered if Marci ever made a jug of that wine. I suspect she did--and I suspect she enjoyed it! I included the recipe in my cookbook, page 5 to be exact, along with several more of her wonderful dishes.
I now refer to her recipe box as my treasure box. And I do treasure it! I hope if you decide to make your own jug of Cranberry Hooch, you will feel the presence of a fun-loving angel on your shoulder. And don't forget to let me know how it turns out. Better yet, invite me over and I'll share a glass with you!
Much Love & Happy Brewing!
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Lasting Impressions
"Our moments of inspiration are not lost though we have no particular poem to show for them' for those experiences have left an indelible impression, and we are ever and anon reminded of them." Henry David Thoreau People often ask me where I learned to cook or how I came up with some of my recipes. Well, my palate was not exposed to very many exotic flavors when I was young. In fact, if we truly are what we eat, then while growing up, I was a Baked Chicken and Turnip Greens! But that would drastically change as I ventured out into the world! We are all products of our particular experiences and food is a visceral experience for me. My passion for creating original and unique combinations of flavors and textures has become my greatest creative outlet and has been a continually evolving process. Creating a new dish is an undertaking that involves all of the senses; visual, taste, texture, aroma. Did I leave one out? Yes, the clink and clatter of dishes in a diner, the sizzle of meat hitting a hot grill, the bubbling of champagne being poured into a flute...even sounds become a nostalgic inspiration. Just like hearing a song on the radio can transport you to a certain place in time, certain foods have the same effect for me. I have so many memories of certain dining experiences that remain vivid in my mind and have indeed left an indelible impression. One of the first culinary events that impacted me in a big way happened my senior year in High School, 1984, while I was on a school sponsored trip to Dallas, Texas with my FHA Chapter. My Home Economics teacher, Sheila, accompanied us on that trip. She was such a wonderfully interesting person. I wanted to be just like her! I don't think she had any idea what an impression she made upon me at the time, but I hadn't been around many people like her. After all, I was a "Baked Chicken"...she was a "Spicy Honey Mustard Glazed Chicken Cooked In A Smoker". Sheila was so pretty. She had beautifully highlighted hair that was perfectly feathered, just like Farrah Fawcett's. I remember being so impressed with her as a young woman. She knew how to do everything. She could cook, sew, decorate...she was so stylish. While we were in Dallas, we went to eat at TGI Fridays. That may not sound too adventurous to most, but keep in mind I was a small town girl from Meadow, Texas. Dallas was "the big city"! When it came time to order, Sheila talked me into ordering the Chicken with Marsala Wine Mushroom Sauce, Fettucini Alfredo and Steamed Veggies. I had hesitated to order this because it was made with wine. I was raised in the Church of Christ and my parents had me believing that the Devil himself would pop out like a Genie if I ever uncorked a bottle of wine. Sheila assured me that all of the alcohol content was cooked out of the sauce, so I took a chance and ordered it. I'm so glad I did! I can still remember how wonderful that meal was. And Viola! I left my Baked Chicken days behind! Since then, I have been on a mission to overwhelm my tastebuds. Although I have not traveled as much as I would have liked, I have made several trips to Santa Fe, NM and have experienced cuisines from all over the world in "the city different". I have taken a few cooking lessons there and honed my palate in the process. Also, I found that you just never know when misadventure will turn into fortune. During my single days, I dated men who came from backgrounds that were in stark contrast to mine. I came away from the relationships not only a little bit wiser, but with some good recipes in hand, to boot! I pocketed culinary treasures such as Pasta Carbonara and Bolognese Sauce from Italy, Chimichurri Sauce from Argentina, Garlic & White Wine Poached Escargot via a French-Canadian, Corned Beef & Cabbage from a Scotsman, Black Forest Cake from the mother of a man who grew up as an air force brat in Germany. Some of those recipes were good enough to almost make the failed relationships worth surviving. I became somewhat of a culinary pirate. ;-) In the process, I have traveled the world through my kitchen. You will find some of these recipes in my cookbook. Others, you may have to garner a visit to my dinner table to experience. By all means, give yourself the gift of savoring different tastes. Don't spend your existence being a Baked Chicken! |
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Just "KISS" It and Make It Better
My husband, James, and I have shared several memorable moments...a lot of them quite humorous. I can actually boast that I can even manage to make my husband laugh when I am asleep. On one particular night about five years ago when I was pregnant with Jaxson, James was awakened by the sound of me talking in my sleep.
Now before that occasion, I was never aware of the fact that I talked in my sleep. I had spent the majority of my adult life as a single person. So finding out that I talked in my sleep either proved or disproved my theory about most single people; they never talk in their sleep, because no one is there to hear it (similar to the tree falling in the woods theory). Since, in fact, no one was there to hear me except for my cat, I don't believe I talked in my sleep when I was single. This phenomenon surely did not occur until I was married...and had to be a rare occasion, at that.
However, on that night, James was roused from his sleep by my mumbling and then he heard me loudly and quite clearly say the words, "KISS It!" Then I rolled over and resumed my silent slumber.
The next morning, he told me what happened. He was quite intrigued about what...or whom...I had been dreaming about. Was I telling someone off? Was I flirting with someone? Just what had provoked my wise-crack? I didn't have a clue! I didn't remember dreaming about anything...or anyone...at all. That's one of the strange things about pregnancy; progesterone can really create some havok between restful zzzzzz's! While I was pregnant, I dreamed about everything from nursing kittens to all my teeth falling out. But God only knows who or what I was telling to "KISS It" that particular night.
I may not have recalled whom or what I was speaking to, but I did have some idea why I had said those choice words. The word, KISS, just happens to be one of my favorite mantras. Those who have worked with me have more than likely heard me say it on more than one occasion.
You see, one of my biggest pet peeves is when someone takes a situation and employs every possible measure to make it more complex than it needs to be. I have known people that over-think, over-do, over-work and over-stress just about everything they do. I think these kind of people must thrive on drama and getting lost in unnecessary details.
Not me! The older I get, the more I appreciate the theory of "less being more" and enjoy having a less complicated life. And although I was born a Type A personality, it has become my aspiration to morph into a Type B! I made the conscious choice to SIMPLIFY my life...or OUR life, as I should say, because it did take my husband and I being on the same page with this philosophy to make it work!
Having more material possessions did not make me happier...it just gave me more things to take care of, more things to clean, more things to organize, more things to get rid of! Having debt gave me more worries and stress. I had to work harder to pay off the debt. I had to spend too much energy running on the hampster wheel keeping track of the bills and paying them. In most cases, the only thing I had to show for my debt was a monthly statement. Even the most experienced world travelers will tell you; you will travel easier and further if you have a lighter load in your backpack! I plan to enjoy the rest of my journey.
So should you ever hear me utter the words, "KISS It!"...just keep in mind I am attempting to apply my life philosophy to a particular situation. If you haven't figured out what my mantra stands for, then I will share it with you, "Keep It Simple, Stupid!"
I try to apply this philosophy to just about every aspect of my daily life. If there is a simpler, easier, quicker way that requires less time or energy to get something done, that's the way I want to do it! Whenever I have approached the task of coming up with a new recipe...or even writing a cookbook...I have sealed it with a big KISS!
However, my sister, Lori, has her own philosophy that, "you can't fix stupid"...but that's a whole other story. ;-) Have a blessed day and if you find yourself in a stressful situation, try to "KISS It!" and make it better!
Now before that occasion, I was never aware of the fact that I talked in my sleep. I had spent the majority of my adult life as a single person. So finding out that I talked in my sleep either proved or disproved my theory about most single people; they never talk in their sleep, because no one is there to hear it (similar to the tree falling in the woods theory). Since, in fact, no one was there to hear me except for my cat, I don't believe I talked in my sleep when I was single. This phenomenon surely did not occur until I was married...and had to be a rare occasion, at that.
However, on that night, James was roused from his sleep by my mumbling and then he heard me loudly and quite clearly say the words, "KISS It!" Then I rolled over and resumed my silent slumber.
The next morning, he told me what happened. He was quite intrigued about what...or whom...I had been dreaming about. Was I telling someone off? Was I flirting with someone? Just what had provoked my wise-crack? I didn't have a clue! I didn't remember dreaming about anything...or anyone...at all. That's one of the strange things about pregnancy; progesterone can really create some havok between restful zzzzzz's! While I was pregnant, I dreamed about everything from nursing kittens to all my teeth falling out. But God only knows who or what I was telling to "KISS It" that particular night.
I may not have recalled whom or what I was speaking to, but I did have some idea why I had said those choice words. The word, KISS, just happens to be one of my favorite mantras. Those who have worked with me have more than likely heard me say it on more than one occasion.
You see, one of my biggest pet peeves is when someone takes a situation and employs every possible measure to make it more complex than it needs to be. I have known people that over-think, over-do, over-work and over-stress just about everything they do. I think these kind of people must thrive on drama and getting lost in unnecessary details.
Not me! The older I get, the more I appreciate the theory of "less being more" and enjoy having a less complicated life. And although I was born a Type A personality, it has become my aspiration to morph into a Type B! I made the conscious choice to SIMPLIFY my life...or OUR life, as I should say, because it did take my husband and I being on the same page with this philosophy to make it work!
Having more material possessions did not make me happier...it just gave me more things to take care of, more things to clean, more things to organize, more things to get rid of! Having debt gave me more worries and stress. I had to work harder to pay off the debt. I had to spend too much energy running on the hampster wheel keeping track of the bills and paying them. In most cases, the only thing I had to show for my debt was a monthly statement. Even the most experienced world travelers will tell you; you will travel easier and further if you have a lighter load in your backpack! I plan to enjoy the rest of my journey.
So should you ever hear me utter the words, "KISS It!"...just keep in mind I am attempting to apply my life philosophy to a particular situation. If you haven't figured out what my mantra stands for, then I will share it with you, "Keep It Simple, Stupid!"
I try to apply this philosophy to just about every aspect of my daily life. If there is a simpler, easier, quicker way that requires less time or energy to get something done, that's the way I want to do it! Whenever I have approached the task of coming up with a new recipe...or even writing a cookbook...I have sealed it with a big KISS!
However, my sister, Lori, has her own philosophy that, "you can't fix stupid"...but that's a whole other story. ;-) Have a blessed day and if you find yourself in a stressful situation, try to "KISS It!" and make it better!
Monday, October 24, 2011
~How To Order My Cookbook, 'Cooking With The Carpenter's Wife'~
*The cookbooks are $24.95 each.
*If you are in the Meadow area, I can deliver locally or you can pick up at my house. Just message me or call 806-539-0362 to place your order.
*If you are distant, you can mail check/money order for $24.95 + $4.00 shipping/handling to:
Karen Rodgers
403 N Renfro
Meadow, TX 79345
Be sure to include at note with the address you want your cookbook shipped to. If you order more than one copy, shipping/handling is $4.00 for the first cookbook, $2.00 per book thereafter.
If you would like to order online or prefer to pay with credit card or PayPal, please visit my listing on Amazon at the attached link...
http://www.amazon.com/Cooking-Carpenters-Karen-Curtis-Rodgers/dp/0615544185/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1318973243&sr=8-1
Thank you for your interest in Cooking With The Carpenter's Wife!
Much Love & Happy Cooking!!!
Karen Curtis Rodgers
*If you are in the Meadow area, I can deliver locally or you can pick up at my house. Just message me or call 806-539-0362 to place your order.
*If you are distant, you can mail check/money order for $24.95 + $4.00 shipping/handling to:
Karen Rodgers
403 N Renfro
Meadow, TX 79345
Be sure to include at note with the address you want your cookbook shipped to. If you order more than one copy, shipping/handling is $4.00 for the first cookbook, $2.00 per book thereafter.
If you would like to order online or prefer to pay with credit card or PayPal, please visit my listing on Amazon at the attached link...
http://www.amazon.com/Cooking-Carpenters-Karen-Curtis-Rodgers/dp/0615544185/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1318973243&sr=8-1
Thank you for your interest in Cooking With The Carpenter's Wife!
Much Love & Happy Cooking!!!
Karen Curtis Rodgers
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
I Didn't ALWAYS Know How to Cook...
I grew up in the company of several good cooks; my grandmother, my mother, my aunts, my sisters, my friends' moms, all the little church ladies and fabulous women of the community. You would have thought I would have known how to cook by the time I graduated from High School. WRONG!
I was much too busy to worry about culinary responsibilities. There was always basketball practice & games, boys, bonfires, boys, track meets, boys, football games, boys, Saturday nights spent cruising other area towns, boys...all the requisites for growing up and being socially acceptable in a West Texas small town. Cooking was literally the last thing on my mind. It didn't even make the list of life skills I thought were necessary for succeeding. Besides, at the time, my main goal in life was to someday become the ex-wife of a multi-millionaire and live happily ever after. And I never heard of a man who would have chosen Betty Crocker over Raquel Welch! So there ya go...such were my priorities. Little did I know that my life would not evolve in quite the same direction which I envisioned.
In spite of being an active member of 4H and a State Level member of the Future Homemakers of America, I started my adult life with very minimal cooking skills. Thanks to my Home Economics teacher, I did at least know how to cut up a chicken and bake a pound cake (even though it always turned out dough-ey in the middle). But even I knew boiled poultry & soggy strawberry shortcake was not the quickest way to a man's heart.
Enter Shannon...one of my dearest lifelong friends and roomate in our first apartment after we moved out of our parents' houses. Unlike me, Shannon had somehow managed to pay attention to Home Cooking 101 while growing up. She came up with the bright idea for us to cook dinner for a couple of guys we knew...to, ummmm, impress them...I guess? The Menu? Well...what any good Texas girl would cook for a man; chicken fried steak, cream gravy, mashed potatoes and green beans!
Okay. I had to admit it, "Shannon, I don't know how to make chicken fried steak."
Shannon replied, "No problem, you can work on the gravy,"
Starting to realize I was in way over my head, I confessed, "Shannon, I don't know how to make cream gravy."
In her usual, colorful verbage, Shannon looked at me with a rather annoyed look on her face and said something along these lines, "What the ****? Don't you know how to make ****? What the **** did your momma ever teach you? *** Bless! Can you at least boil the ******* potatoes?"
Embarrassed and more than a little intimidated, I answered, "****, yeah!"
So I set forth to the task at hand. Boil potatoes. I could do that! I could do that? Um, yeah.
About ten minutes into my endeavor, Shannon looked over at the products of my labor. She quickly broke into a hearty laugh and called me every word that you cannot find in a Thesaurus that has the same meaning as ******* idiot!
I did exactly as she told me...."get a saucepan, put the potatoes in, bring it to a boil, cook for about 15-20 minutes." I guess she should have been a tad bit more descriptive, because she obviously forgot to tell me to peel & cut the potatoes before putting them in the boiling water. It might have taken quite a while to boil 3 whole russett potatoes!
Hey, it wasn't my fault! At least I tried! I might not have started out right, but I finished well!
Oh...and the guy I was cooking for...he didn't show up. Yep, that's right...I got stood up! But Shannon, Tricia, Jeff, Chad & I had a really good meal that night. And not only did I eventually become a pretty decent cook that, on given occasion, could quite possibly contend with Betty Crocker, there have been certain moments in my life that I might have even given Raquel Welch a run for her money! His loss!
And the best part...I still stay in touch with all of the people who were at that table...that night...and they are people I am proud to call my lifetime friends. We should get together again sometime...I'll make the mashed potatoes!
I was much too busy to worry about culinary responsibilities. There was always basketball practice & games, boys, bonfires, boys, track meets, boys, football games, boys, Saturday nights spent cruising other area towns, boys...all the requisites for growing up and being socially acceptable in a West Texas small town. Cooking was literally the last thing on my mind. It didn't even make the list of life skills I thought were necessary for succeeding. Besides, at the time, my main goal in life was to someday become the ex-wife of a multi-millionaire and live happily ever after. And I never heard of a man who would have chosen Betty Crocker over Raquel Welch! So there ya go...such were my priorities. Little did I know that my life would not evolve in quite the same direction which I envisioned.
In spite of being an active member of 4H and a State Level member of the Future Homemakers of America, I started my adult life with very minimal cooking skills. Thanks to my Home Economics teacher, I did at least know how to cut up a chicken and bake a pound cake (even though it always turned out dough-ey in the middle). But even I knew boiled poultry & soggy strawberry shortcake was not the quickest way to a man's heart.
Enter Shannon...one of my dearest lifelong friends and roomate in our first apartment after we moved out of our parents' houses. Unlike me, Shannon had somehow managed to pay attention to Home Cooking 101 while growing up. She came up with the bright idea for us to cook dinner for a couple of guys we knew...to, ummmm, impress them...I guess? The Menu? Well...what any good Texas girl would cook for a man; chicken fried steak, cream gravy, mashed potatoes and green beans!
Okay. I had to admit it, "Shannon, I don't know how to make chicken fried steak."
Shannon replied, "No problem, you can work on the gravy,"
Starting to realize I was in way over my head, I confessed, "Shannon, I don't know how to make cream gravy."
In her usual, colorful verbage, Shannon looked at me with a rather annoyed look on her face and said something along these lines, "What the ****? Don't you know how to make ****? What the **** did your momma ever teach you? *** Bless! Can you at least boil the ******* potatoes?"
Embarrassed and more than a little intimidated, I answered, "****, yeah!"
So I set forth to the task at hand. Boil potatoes. I could do that! I could do that? Um, yeah.
About ten minutes into my endeavor, Shannon looked over at the products of my labor. She quickly broke into a hearty laugh and called me every word that you cannot find in a Thesaurus that has the same meaning as ******* idiot!
I did exactly as she told me...."get a saucepan, put the potatoes in, bring it to a boil, cook for about 15-20 minutes." I guess she should have been a tad bit more descriptive, because she obviously forgot to tell me to peel & cut the potatoes before putting them in the boiling water. It might have taken quite a while to boil 3 whole russett potatoes!
Hey, it wasn't my fault! At least I tried! I might not have started out right, but I finished well!
Oh...and the guy I was cooking for...he didn't show up. Yep, that's right...I got stood up! But Shannon, Tricia, Jeff, Chad & I had a really good meal that night. And not only did I eventually become a pretty decent cook that, on given occasion, could quite possibly contend with Betty Crocker, there have been certain moments in my life that I might have even given Raquel Welch a run for her money! His loss!
And the best part...I still stay in touch with all of the people who were at that table...that night...and they are people I am proud to call my lifetime friends. We should get together again sometime...I'll make the mashed potatoes!
Monday, October 17, 2011
How "THE Pie" Got It's Name
Ask any of my good friends about what their favorite thing is that I have cooked for them and most of them will reply, "THE pie". That pie recipe is at the top of the list for my favorite original recipes, for several reasons.
I developed the recipe while making it for my grandfather. Incorporated in the recipe were some of his favorite things; apples, cranberries, port wine and walnuts. I remembered being a young child and my Grandan showing me how he could peel an apple in a single ribbon using his pocket knife. It's always those little personal details that end up being my biggest sources of inspiration.
The first time I made "THE pie" for my grandfather, I was complimented by his request for a second helping. However, my biggest reward came when my grandfather, a man of few words, patted me on the back and voiced his critique, "that's some good pie, Punkin."
That was all the validation required to make "THE Pie" my one of signature dishes. Any time I was invited to a dinner at a friend's house or wanted to make a dish for any special occasion, I usually went with "THE Pie"...and it quickly became the most requested.
But there was one problem...I could not think of what to call "THE pie". It was too much of a mouthful to call it "Apple, Cranberry, Port Wine & Walnut Pie". Friends would usually recall it as "THE" or "THAT" pie, while smiling with their eyes closed and making a "mmmmm" sound. This pleasurable concoction attained a most prodigious degree of fame amongst my family and friends, but what in the heck was I going to call it?
The answer came on a ski trip with the Texas Twisters in 1994. We accompanied about 1200 other members of the Texas Ski Council on a week long vacation in Snowmass Village at Aspen, Colorado. On the second night there, we had a pot luck supper. I decided to bake several of "THE pies" as my contribution to the gathering.
As I was baking eight pies in double ovens, the kitchen in our condo got a little too warm. So I opened up the kitchen window and the scent of baking pies began to waft through the mountain air. It didn't take long before people started coming to our door...people from my ski club and others who were literally from all over the world. At the end of the evening, I fondly recall three of the ski club members arguing over the last piece of pie! People often complimented my cooking, but I had never had anyone fight over it!
About 5 years after that trip, I ran into a man at another Texas Ski Council function. He approached me and asked, "are you the one who made those pies in Snomass?"
When I answered him, he broadly grinned and offered, "Name your price, lady. I'll pay you whatever you ask if you will just give me the recipe for 'THAT' pie!"
Of course, I told him I would give him the recipe for free, as long as he promised to share it with someone he loved.
Then he described his memory of "THE pie". He explained, "There's been many a night I have sat alone, closed my eyes and thought about 'THAT' pie! It was like wishing for the company of an old lover."
AND that is how "THE pie" finally got it's name. You can find "Old Lovers Pie" on page 34 of my cookbook, Cooking With The Carpenter's Wife! I hope you enjoy "THE pie" every bit as much as the people who have had it before you!
Much Love & Happy Cooking, Y'all!!!
I developed the recipe while making it for my grandfather. Incorporated in the recipe were some of his favorite things; apples, cranberries, port wine and walnuts. I remembered being a young child and my Grandan showing me how he could peel an apple in a single ribbon using his pocket knife. It's always those little personal details that end up being my biggest sources of inspiration.
The first time I made "THE pie" for my grandfather, I was complimented by his request for a second helping. However, my biggest reward came when my grandfather, a man of few words, patted me on the back and voiced his critique, "that's some good pie, Punkin."
That was all the validation required to make "THE Pie" my one of signature dishes. Any time I was invited to a dinner at a friend's house or wanted to make a dish for any special occasion, I usually went with "THE Pie"...and it quickly became the most requested.
But there was one problem...I could not think of what to call "THE pie". It was too much of a mouthful to call it "Apple, Cranberry, Port Wine & Walnut Pie". Friends would usually recall it as "THE" or "THAT" pie, while smiling with their eyes closed and making a "mmmmm" sound. This pleasurable concoction attained a most prodigious degree of fame amongst my family and friends, but what in the heck was I going to call it?
The answer came on a ski trip with the Texas Twisters in 1994. We accompanied about 1200 other members of the Texas Ski Council on a week long vacation in Snowmass Village at Aspen, Colorado. On the second night there, we had a pot luck supper. I decided to bake several of "THE pies" as my contribution to the gathering.
As I was baking eight pies in double ovens, the kitchen in our condo got a little too warm. So I opened up the kitchen window and the scent of baking pies began to waft through the mountain air. It didn't take long before people started coming to our door...people from my ski club and others who were literally from all over the world. At the end of the evening, I fondly recall three of the ski club members arguing over the last piece of pie! People often complimented my cooking, but I had never had anyone fight over it!
About 5 years after that trip, I ran into a man at another Texas Ski Council function. He approached me and asked, "are you the one who made those pies in Snomass?"
When I answered him, he broadly grinned and offered, "Name your price, lady. I'll pay you whatever you ask if you will just give me the recipe for 'THAT' pie!"
Of course, I told him I would give him the recipe for free, as long as he promised to share it with someone he loved.
Then he described his memory of "THE pie". He explained, "There's been many a night I have sat alone, closed my eyes and thought about 'THAT' pie! It was like wishing for the company of an old lover."
AND that is how "THE pie" finally got it's name. You can find "Old Lovers Pie" on page 34 of my cookbook, Cooking With The Carpenter's Wife! I hope you enjoy "THE pie" every bit as much as the people who have had it before you!
Much Love & Happy Cooking, Y'all!!!
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