Connection to grandma

If you don't know this about me already, I have a love affair with peanut butter. I admit it, guilty as charged. For whatever reason, my youngest brother and I love the food. Our grandma New used to make the grandkids their favorite pie for their birthday. Of course mine was peanut butter. And, man, could she make a pie. Grandma had it down, the crust, the filling, the meringue on top. It was a special treat that I still hold dear.

My grandma passed away at 69 to ovarian cancer. She has just begun teaching me to sew and bake. I was not afforded the opportunity to stand next to her in her kitchen, rolling out the crust, cooking the custard on the stove top. I think of that often, all the wonderful things we could have shared under her roof. But the Lord wanted her home long before I wanted to give her up.

Throughout the years, my youngest brother and I have searched high and low for a peanut butter pie. No one makes them anymore, or even a custard pie. Guess we have gotten away from the art form of baking. To frustrate things more, no one had grandma's recipe for the pie. She had it memorized in her head.

After years of wishing we had that recipe, I have finally found one almost like it. The point to this blog? I felt a connection with my grandma when I made it the other day. She was a wonderful lady, someone who is worth emulating. Knowing I can carry on the pie tradition she so beautifully mastered makes me long to see her and feel as though I have become somewhat like her. Any way I resemble my grandma New is an honor. Someday I will be with her again. Until then, come visit me and taste the pie. It's worth the drive!