Much Loved Pumpkin Pie

Every holiday when I get in the kitchen I go back to a time that was simple and easy. I am standing in the kitchen, apron on, awaiting my grandmothers directions as we are making her famous pumpkin pie. I can smell the pie crust and the pumpkin in the air, I can picture my grandmother dancing and singing in the kitchen. I have been doing this for many holidays, all so I can try to remember what the ingredients are that my grandma used for her much loved pumpkin pie. I keep thinking that if I can recreate those memories, then something will spark and my subconscious will let me remember all of those important ingredients that made her pie the best pie I had ever tasted. It would be so much easier to just call and ask for the directions but sadly, my grandma is no longer with me and all of her recipes were lost. I wish I could remember because I always felt close to her when we were baking. She taught me everything I know about cooking and baking, she loved to be in the kitchen and I loved being right there beside her. Every year I attempt to make her pie and every year there is something that is off and missing. I am not sure what it is, is there not enough cinnamon? Did I bake the crust too long? I ask myself these questions every holiday. It still ends up the same, it is never right. I was starting to think that maybe it won't ever be right. I did not want to give up, but fail after fail it got me thinking that maybe it is supposed to be this way. Looking into the past and thinking about her could be what I really need, not the recipe. Now, I usually did this by myself so I could have time to think about the ingredients.

I decided to try this one more time, this Thanksgiving. So, I put the apron on and turned the music up, I had my girls in the kitchen with me this year and we were laughing and singing together. At that moment I swore I seen my grandma smiling right at me and giving the look like she was so proud that I carried on her tradition with my kids. We decided not to follow a recipe this time, we were just going to wing it and whatever we came up with that would be our amazing pie for the holidays that we would always bake together.

My daughters were laughing and getting along and in the moment it didn't matter if I got the ingredients perfect, it mattered what was happening in that moment. The girls were getting along and enjoying something together. I was spending time with my kids and making ever lasting memories that they could look back on, just like I look back on the memories with my grandma.

Then, the craziest thing happened, my youngest daughter asked what it would taste like if we put a little bit of vanilla in the pie mix. Not even giving it a second thought I told her to go ahead and go for it. She didn't even measure the amount she just started pouring it in. Now, I am not going to lie, I was a little concerned about how much vanilla she was adding but at that time I didn't care. I would eat that pie even if it was the worst tasting pie anyone ever made. My oldest daughter added the cinnamon to the mix and a little bit of whip cream. It was time to pour the mix in the crust, and we were about to see what our concoction actually turned out like. We were anxiously waiting for it to come out of the oven. When that timer dinged all three of us jumped out of our chairs and headed straight towards the kitchen. We didn't even give it time to cool, we just wanted to know if we made a masterpiece or something that nobody would eat. We each grabbed our forks and dug into the pie, we looked at each other and smiled! That was the best pie I had ever tasted, the girls kept eating and eating. It wasn't my grandmas pie by far, but it was even better! I never thought that would be able to happen. I seen my grandma one more time that day, she looked at me and the girls and I could tell how happy she was that I had figured out that her recipe was not what was important. The memories and the laughter that came with that recipe was what I should have been cherishing all along. The pie was so good we had to recreate the recipe again, we made so many pumpkin pies this Thanksgiving to give to family and friends. I am not sure if we will ever remember the exact ingredients we used or how much we used of each one, but I know we will always remember that day in the kitchen and all the love and joy that we experienced. I hope they remember as they get older and have their own kids that it isn't about the recipe, it is about the people you make it with and the memories you create. It's not even about how the pie turns out, even if it is so bad you can't eat it. It's the special bonds that happen in the kitchen over a mixer and some measuring cups that mean the most and should be cherished forever. We now have a new tradition for every holiday, we will be making pies. How they will turn out, we have no clue because we are just going to wing it just like we did this year. Maybe some years are going to be better than others but we don't care. It won't be long before they go off on their own and start their own lives and I want us to make as many memories as possible in the kitchen before that happens.