Cherry Pie

There is something very comforting about family recipes.  It is one way to reach across the generations and keep family stories alive.  Renee was an inspired cook.  She used simple, wholesome ingredients with the ample use of herbs and garlic.  She kept a large garden for many years, and her meals emphasized in season vegetables and fruits.  My favorites were her soups and pies.

I have tried to recreate her pies and have had numerous lessons from her daughter, Michele. Failing being able to make a pie I have resorted to trying to find a bakery that sells a pie reminiscent of those childhood pies of my grandmother.  The Pie Company in Salmon Arm came quite close and inspired the  following poem:

It was the tartness of the cherries in the pie

that suddenly brought me to my grandmother.

The may pies she made with their dark crusts,

blackened syrup on the edges,

the fruit always tart and from trees or bushes close to her home.

And from there I drifted to her loamy garden soil,

sweetened with coffee grounds and old tea bags.

Her hands plunged deep between the plants, and coming up,

sifting through and pulling out the small white weed roots.

This is how you do it properly, weeding, carefully,

watering only the soil, it takes so much time.

That was a very good piece of pie.

My grandmother and I, circa late 1980s.