My mother made amazing pie crusts. In fact, because it was so good, and because she taught my eldest sister how to replicate her goodness, and for many years she gave me packets of uncooked piecrust for my freezer, I never bothered to master the art.
Until Covid.
Like millions of people across the country and around the world, I’ve decided it’s time to stretch my culinary muscles.
I mean seriously, I can whip up a four-course gourmet dinner with unpronounceable delicacies and intricate sauces. What on earth is keeping me from adding a perfect pie crust to my repertoire? It can’t be that difficult. Right?
Ha!
Over the years, I have ventured into what I hoped would be pie crust heaven only to find myself in a hell of a mess. Dry crust. Too moist crust. Unrollable crust. Heavy, tough crust. I’ve made all the mistakes. Which probably accounts for the reason I generally opt for crusts I can pat into the plate without any need to roll the beastly thing out!
No more I told myself! It’s time to conquer my fear of pie crust hell.
On Saturday my odyssey began. I watched some videos. Checked out recipes and then got to work on making a crust for Chicken Pot Pie. Let me just say, the filling was excellent. The crust? Well… that’s a whole other story of woe.
I’m sure if my mother is watching from on high, she is rolling her eyes and cautioning me to follow the directions, treat it all with loving care and slow down. Be patient. Be kind. Be gentle.
It’s all your fault mom. The fact I don’t like following directions. The fact I tend to speed through things I don’t know how to do. The fact, I don’t like doing things I don’t know how to do!
Remember. You used to always get so upset with my need to ‘Do it my way’. As a teenager I enjoyed the tension that brought into our relationship a lot. In fact, I’d often do everything the way you didn’t just to make my point. I wasn’t you and didn’t want to be!
I mean seriously! I didn’t want to be you, but it’s all your fault I’m me. Hmmm… Now that made lots of sense.
Fact is, for many years, my litany of your faults made my life one big messy pie for which, albeit not true, I like to believe you were to blame. Things like, my inability to follow directions. My lack of being able to tell left from right. North from south. My poor discipline when it comes to weight loss. My untidy bedroom, even my unmade bed.
All of that was your fault. And don’t get me started on the big things… My failed relationships. My need for perfection. My fear of failure. Ooooh… that’s a biggy!
Yesterday, I decided to dive into my fear of failure by taking a second foray into blending flour, water and shortening into pie crust.
My second attempt is not perfect – rolling it out was still an anxiety-riddled adventure that resulted in a few patches here and there. But all in all, it isn’t too bad.
And that’s where I have to thank my mother. To get it all to roll together, I had to incorporate many lessons she taught me throughout my life.
To be patient in the face of my fears.
To incorporate kindness into everything I do.
And, to be gentle with the world around me.
My pie crust yesterday didn’t turn out as perfectly as I wanted, but then, life seldom turns out to be the perfect road we want it to be (just as our mothers could never be the maternal goddesses of our dreams). But life is always the road we need to travel to find ourselves right where we are and our mothers are always the perfect teachers of what we need to learn so that we can become the person we want to be.
Thanks mom. I know it’s not your fault my pastry crusts haven’t had the flaky tenderness of yours. Just as I know you’re not to blame for the challenges (and misadventures) I’ve encountered on my road.
To be clear, though, I give you full credit for the lessons you taught me on how to weather life’s challenges with patience and humility. And, I am forever grateful for the gift of love you gave me always. The gift that enriches my life every moment, because, no matter how challenging I was in our relationship or how many challenges I faced in my life, you taught me how to turn up in the world with kindness, grace and a heart full of love. Always.
Namaste.
Dare Boldly 
Good for you to tackle your “fear” making the perfect pie crust. Pies were not a staple of our Polish Kitchen. My English aunt, who was a chef, and ran her own restaurant, made us the proverbial mincemeat pies, tarts for Christmas and that was the extent of my pie experience growing up. I did attempt two pies in my 30s with less than stellar results. So my dear MM, not knowing what to give me for Christmas 2018, asked an Indigo sales associate to help choose a cookbook et voilà! The Art of the Pie by Kate McDermott found a place under the tree., hint, hint! I read it cover to cover, and finally 11 months later attempted to bake the quintessential apple pie. It looked great, with fragrant ribbons of apple and cinnamon wafting through the kitchen, perfect for an open house! It actually was not bad, but not great either. However, it has not deterred me from further experimentation AFTER the pandemic pandemonium subsidies and I can invite folks over to help us eat it. Otherwise, my hips will love it. Oh yes, I always follow a recipe for the first time to a fault. Next time, I shall tweak it to make it really perfect, my way!
Stay safe everyone, there is a light at the end of this tunnel, somewhere, there always is!
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The book sounds wonderful! I might just have to order a copy now so that I can devour it during this sequestered solitude. And I hear you re the baking it now versus ‘after’. I am continuously dropping food off at my daughter’s front door – the freezer just isn’t big enough and she’s doing all our shopping! ❤
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Louise, your tale, about the pie crust and how you finally learnt how to
do an ‘almost’ perfect one, is both touching and filled with wisdom.
I am glad you finally listened to your mother, it does help. 😊.
The lessons you had to incorporate really are so true.
I do so feel for your gratitude to your loving mother. Had a mother like that myself and she also lives in my heart.
miriam
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Thank you Miriam. Life is a journey and one thing I’ve learned (dare I say finally? 🙂 ) is that my mother helped me find my way in every kind of weather, circumstance and terrain. And that easy is always built on Love.
Hugs to you dear heart. ❤
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Hugs right back
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Lovely tribute to your mother and how she taught you so much– even through making pie crusts. I’m sure your crusts are delicious.
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I am pleased to report that this last one tasted pretty good! 🙂 Thanks Lisa. ❤
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Another kindred soul who has had frozen pastry donated to their freezer! Thought I was the only one! But alas my mom doesn’t bake much anymore and travels even less…. So I’ve had to learn. The patience rolling it out is always the issue but over the years I’ve gotten better. Interesting that my daughter makes fabulous pastry like my mom did!
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yeah! Someone else was given the same gift? How amazing!
it is a thing about patience isn’t it Bernie. For me, the challenge is I want to push and pull and force it into shape instead of letting grace roll it out. That is fascinating, btw, about your daughter. maybe she can start filling your freezer? 🙂 ❤
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I usually just suggest she bring pie! Or sometimes she makes it here as they often are super early for supper.
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My mum used to make awesome pie crusts as well
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This made me think of my mom, of course … she wasn’t a great cook, but she could make a wonderful apple pie. I was always too busy being a rebellious teenager to appreciate it, but I certainly did in later years. I’m not much good in the kitchen myself — I rationalize by saying the directions on everything are printed way too small! Works for me … Thanks for the memories, Louise!
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You’re so welcome Jim. In times like these, memories that warm our heart are especially vital.
And re the ‘small print’ you know… if you pull them up on your computer screen you can make them bigger… Just sayin’! 🙂
Stay safe. Stay healthy. Stay connected.
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I just want to say that it’s very comforting to “hear” someone else say this:
“I don’t like following directions”…and…
“I don’t like doing things I don’t know how to do.”
In general, can you guide me on ways to permanently overcome these feelings? Did you ever pursue therapy of any kind (I’m thinking of NeuroLinguistic Programming or EMDR)?
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Hi Vanessa — I am a big believer in the power of therapy — the feelings are… just feelings and so when they raise their simpering little voices, I will look at them and go… “Oh look. Fear is here. Oh look. So is curiosity… Possibility… Joy… Adventure….” And then, I softly say to fear…. It’s ok. I’ve got this.
I’m not sure we can ever permanently overcome these feelings. For me, it’s more about acknowledging them and then…. taking a big breath and moving forward.
Though… I must admit… I still don’t follow directions and have chosen instead to laugh at myself when my ‘not following’ results in some pretty unexpected and unusual results!
I’ve done NLP and found it incredibly powerful. I believe that anytime we have the courage to be honest and vulnerable with ourselves by speaking to another about our inner beings, we demonstrate courage — and courage inspires change and shifting perspectives and adventure and so much joy!
I wish you well on your journey. I hope to hear from you again! Take good care. Louise.
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I just want to tell you how COMFORTING it is to “hear” someone else say this:
“I don’t like following directions”…and…
“I don’t like doing things I don’t know how to do.”
In general though, can you guide me on ways to permanently overcome these feelings? Did you ever pursue therapy of any kind (I’m thinking of NeuroLinguistic Programming or EMDR)?
I don’t like doing things with my hands…like cooking, sewing, and gardening… I like sitting on my butt and reading, researching, reflecting, writing, and talking!
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I just saw your final statement Vanessa — I’m always working with my hands — as an artist they are one of my ‘tools’ — I think what you do through reading, researching, reflecting, writing and talking is powerful — perhaps there’s a way to discover if your hands have anything to add to the conversation?
Writing is big time hands work — celebrate all your hands create when you write and type.
I believe it’s important to love myself for what I do do… I don’t sew and am not a great gardener — but this morning I got out into the garden to weed because it had to be done — I do love watering my plants though so save that to the end of my gardening session as a reward! 🙂
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