Wednesday, November 28, 2012

The holidays are perfect for family recipes.


Family Recipes

I've long said that if I were about to be executed and were given a choice of my last meal, it would be bacon and eggs...Nothing is quite as intoxicating as the smell of bacon frying, save perhaps the smell of coffee brewing.”
                                           James Beard

The smell of frying bacon still lingers in my house from the Thanksgiving meals. I always indulge in bacon when the kids come to visit, so this time I bought two pounds of the thick-cut apple-wood smoked variety to put in the dressing and on the salad. We had bacon and eggs and rosemary toast for breakfast each day. If I had my way, I would eat bacon and eggs everyday of my life but, alas, common sense prevails.

My dad grew up in the days of hard labor and animal husbandry, when you grew your own food, including the meat. The neighbors went round from house to house after the weather turned cold and slaughtered and dressed-out whatever was to be the family's primary protein source for the year. I remember sitting in my great-aunts' smoke house as a child with the ham haunches hanging from the roof timbers, all covered with salt or sugar. That smell is what I associate with heaven.

One of the best things the holidays produce is the old family recipes. I searched everywhere in my house to no avail for the little gray metal box that holds the stained and yellowing jewels from my past. I wanted to give my niece the recipe for Heavenly Pie—the one my great-aunt, Mary Lee Hall, always made. Her house in Asheville was one of the few places my family went on holidays. She was a fabulous cook, unlike her sister, my grandmother, who couldn't boil water without burning it. The recipe box eluded me until yesterday—I found it sitting in the middle of my desk, as though some unseen hand had placed it in plain sight, knowing that idiot-me would never find where I had so cleverly tucked it away.

Like a drunk with his first whiskey, I still remember the first time I ate Heavenly Pie. I was about nine years old. I kept circling Mary Lee's kitchen to stare at the luscious pie sitting on the side-board; so exotic with all that whipped cream and shaved chocolate. We didn't have such luxuries at our house so I could hardly wait for my taste. I was afraid the grown-ups would take too much. I wanted to snatch it and run away before they got a fork in.

Nowadays, I make it for pot-luck dinners because it is so easy and fail-safe. Like bacon and eggs, it's hard to mess up. Here's the recipe:

Heavenly Pie

Crush 20-24 Ritz Crackers and put in a bowl. Add ½ to 1 cup of chopped pecans and 1 teaspoon of baking powder. Set aside.

Beat three egg whites with a pinch of Cream of Tartar. Add one cup of sugar a little at a time. Continue beating until stiff-peak stage. Add 1 teaspoon of vanilla and fold in the Ritz Cracker mixture.

Turn into a buttered pie pan and form into a shell. Bake 30 minutes at 350* or until golden brown. Remove from the oven and allow to cool completely.

Whip ½ pint of heavy cream, sweetening to taste. Spread over the pie shell and sprinkle with shaved semi-sweet chocolate. Chill for a couple of hours before serving.

It's good, y'all. I guarantee it!

                                               In the spirit,
                                                 Jane

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