April 14, 1971

Pecan Pie

I don't know how I am going to explain a pecan pie to Spanish customs inspectors, but when your wife's culinary prowess attains international recognition some deference is inevitable.

Some of the regular followers of this column may have detected a certain bias for southern cooking.  I confess this addiction but only recently discovered that Number One Daughter is hooked too.

NOD, Christy is spending her junior college year at the University of Madrid, and Cona and I are off on a second honeymoon to see her.

As is the custom of young blondes, Christy has acquired a surprisingly large circle of friends - most of them being very male and very attentive.  Among her peers is a sprinkling of U.S. southern students and Strategic Air Command servicemen who sorely miss down-home cooking.

It was not a great surprise, therefore, when we received an urgent plea to bring over a genuine, fresh, aromatic, devilishly delectable, tender pecan pie as only a southern belle can concoct.

So, out of the freezer Cona produced the precious Texas pecans hand-picked and shelled by our good friend Joe Aycock of San Angelo.

I am peeking through a crack in the door and taking notes so that I can record her secrets for posterity.

If you promise not to tell anyone else, I'll share her recipe.

Pie crust, in my opinion, is the mainstay of any pie.  The ingredients of good crust are few and, simple, but the technique of putting them all together is critical.

Cona chills her mixing bowl and pastry blender in the refrigerator while she gathers the "fixings."  Cold is the key to crust.  To "slightly more" than a cup of flour and a "pinch" of salt she cuts in "slightly more" than a half-cup of Crisco.  I recognize the free plug; but nothing else will do the job," says my wife.

She adds "just enough" chilled water to hold the mixture together - approximately two tablespoons.  She shapes the dough just enough to move it from the bowl to a clean, floured dish cloth spread on a table.  She rolls out the dough with a sleeve-covered rolling pin, and presses it gently into a baking tin.

In the bottom of the crust shell she spreads a cup and a half of pecan halves.  Over this she pours an ambrosia consisting of three eggs well beaten, a half cup white sugar, one cup of brown corn syrup, a teaspoon of vanilla extract, a half teaspoon of salt, and two tablespoons melted butter.

After about 45 minutes in an oven of 350 degrees, the pecans have risen to the surface and the filling has a "quivery" custard-like consistency.  The trick here is to set the filling but not firm it.

This pie is distinguished by flaky crust, slightly caramel taste, less sweetness and moist filling.

If this sounds good, you'd better believe it.

Now, how to smuggle it into Spain?

Author: Lindsey Williams