I've bemoaned the fact that many holidays are colliding this week,
but I forgot to mention one. Earlier this week on the 9th of March was the
birthday of my pie baking mentor, Jessie. It seems most fitting to remember her
on of all holidays, Pie Day.
As flour flew out of the bowl all over the checkerboard linoleum floor,
Jessie would glance up from peeling apples while watching "Dark
Shadows" and say, "Why don't you use a bigger bowl?" And so my
baking apprenticeship began. Under Jessie's watchful eye I learned the
intricacies of sifting and measuring, separating yolks and folding in whites.
She taught me how to navigate rolling pins and icing spatulas, what was meant
by "clean test" and "springy to the touch." Jessie had me baking
right alongside her in a grown-up oven while all of my friends were baking by
light bulb in their EZ Bake ovens.
Seasonal pie baking was a constant- a Farberware double boiler held
center stage for cream pies and lemon meringue. In warm weather months, a huge
red and white bowl held berries or peaches for tossing with just enough, but
not too much sugar.
Jessie's handwriting was curlicued like the white icing scrawled
across Hostess chocolate cupcakes. Most of her recipes were of course, in her
head. When I would ask for specifics Jessie would say, "This much"
offering a visual of her flour dusted hands or a verbal, “That’s enough” when
adding water to pie crust.
I would try to repeat her directives, not always successfully. Never
one to mince words Jessie would say, "Next time you don't want it to look like this... " I must also credit
her for teaching me not only recipe development, "Why you fussin' with
that? There's an easier way..." but also problem solving, "Here. I
fixed it."
Jessie's culinary talents encompassed sweets and savories; she prepared
dinner nightly, desserts daily and could orchestrate and execute holidays such
as Thanksgiving and Passover seemingly without effort. I must say that her
fried chicken was legendary, and her pies as well. She would pack up care
packages of fried chicken to send me on my way back to college after holiday
breaks. It should also be noted that she was responsible for my early Music
Education. Her bedroom was located directly below mine and in the evenings, the
voices of Ella and Frank, Billie and Nat would creep up through the
floorboards.
I still have the red and white bowl for mixing fruit pies and I
think about her and miss her every time I'm in the kitchen. My kids would often
say, "We should have had a Jessie" to which I'd reply,
"Everybody should have had a Jessie."
My workday would not be complete without making a few rounds of pie
dough. As I hoist the 20 quart mixing bowl onto the commercial Hobart with the
paddle attachment mixing the butter, flour and just enough cold water to hold
it together, I always think, "See Jessie? I'm using the bigger bowl."
Happy Pie Day.
.
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