Raspberry Pie

Our favorite foods we enjoy as adults are often tied to some sort of fond memory experienced as a child.

One of my favorite desserts goes back to memories of summers spent visiting Grandma and Poppy.

Grandma humming hymns, wrapping apron strings round her waist, busy heels dancing to and fro between oven and stove, meant one thing – pie. Her well-rehearsed symphony was my cue to observe from the nearby step stool. And if I was lucky, she’d put a few berries in a dish for me to munch on while I watched.

Raspberry pie was everyone’s favorite. Peach was a close second.

I can still see her worn hands, dressed with sterling silver rings and bracelets, crimping the edges of the crust. All the while, she’d share the same stories I heard at least a dozen times before: how her wedding ring was really her mother-in-law’s, how she fell in love with Poppy through love letters, her time spent as a nurse, and stories of my dad’s childhood. I pretended to listen as if it were the first time I’d heard them. Every time.

I miss her.

It’s a beautiful thing how food contains a hidden story of where we come from.

Grandma’s pies have become my pies. My childhood memories are now my children’s memories in the making. And all of our smiles, no matter the generation, somehow tie us altogether.

PDF Recipe: Cold Raspberry Pie