Wanna know a secret? I normally don’t eat pie, or sweets for that matter. I’m not a strict adhere-er to the Tom Brady diet (there’s room for wine and chocolate in your life, I promise), but I eat fairly clean. The one day that I really make an exception? Thanksgiving. And loves, the real reason is pie.
(You may have gathered that from my insistence that Thanksgiving outfits be comfy for eating, see my criteria here).
I like stuffing, potatoes, sweet potatoes, and cornbread. But, I really love pie. And it’s more than pie; I love what pie represents to me.
If you’ve been following along for a while, you know that I lost both of my grandmothers almost two years ago. It was hard, and it was a lot. And my love of pie comes from my Grandmothers. Both of them were amazing pie makers, and pie was the hallmark of the holiday season. I remember my paternal Grandma begin her baking early, making so many pies you couldn’t see straight, and freezing them. My maternal Grandmother didn’t produce quantity, but she made up for it in quality. She made us a pecan pie every year for both Thanksgiving and Christmas, and it was always one of my favorite things.
(If this is when you tell me you don’t like pecan pie, I’m going to call you a liar. It’s basically sugar. Sugar with some nuts. Hopefully, someone loves you enough to make you real whipped cream to go with it. Pecan pie is the holidays in a food form. You love it!)
Pecan pie became such a staple and such a reminder of home, that baking them during the holiday season became my “thing”. I moved to LA right out of college, and wasn’t always able to go home for Thanksgiving. I often stayed in LA (which is great at that time of year), and celebrated with friends. I began making my Mimi’s pecan pie (though Grandma’s was just as good!) as a way to remember home, state where I was from, and feel connected at the holidays. I made pie for friends, peers, agents, anyone who would take one. I was proud of the pecans on top of sugar, and wanted to share the love that a pecan pie means to me.
Then, I started being the family pie maker at Thanksgiving and Christmas. It made me feel grown up, and one of the biggest moments of my life was when my Mimi complimented my pecan pie. Now that my grandmas are both gone, the ritual of making and eating pie is more important to me than ever. My secret ingredient? It’s love, my grandmas, where I’m from, and a pinch of salt. Thanksgiving may be the only day I really go to town on pie, but I like to think that the pie is always a little part of me.
Wishing us all a week of pie and amazing shoes!
XO RA
