Piecrust

This picture recalls a writing of mine, of the past--

Crust is the most important part of any pie, because too much work will ruin it: a true test of womanliness. Shortening is what my mother used, cut into flour with a pair of table knives, scissoring against each other until the texture of cornmeal is reached. Then a sprinkle of water, pressed with a fork, then hands deftly mold the dough. If it falls apart, add a little more water, but remember the risk of ruin.

Dust flour on a board and roll out half the dough, describe each compass point with the rolling pin to create a circle. The insides are almost accessory (apples for Thanksgiving, blueberries in August, mincemeat for Christmas). Then the crucial operation, getting the crust off the board, spatula carefully loosening the dough, then flip one side over the other, drape the half moon over your hands and place into pan, fill and repeat maneuvers for the top crust, unless it is pumpkin or lemon meringue.

My mother was proud of her pies, although I learned later there were other better ways than how she taught me, . How to crimp the edges with a fork, and prick the middle to let steam out. How to say "I made a pie," so that there was no argument to admiration. How pie is a lesson in self-control, all error must be internalized. Taking it out on the pie only makes things worse.

So patiently patch the crust if it tears, open up a door in the dough and sprinkle forgotten sugar or cinnamon or lemon. Each failure is revealed but we must wear our errors plainly. Only once have I refused to own my mistakes and swept a mess of too wet or too tough dough into the garbage. Ever after pie is performed breathlessly, in fear of the ruin that might befall me, but dodging it every time.