You will never see my face on “Next Food Network Star.” My culinary point of view would be something like “Kurmudgeon’s Kitchen” and would feature things like 20 Things You Can Do with Kraft Mac ‘n’ Cheese. Mine is the kind of cooking for which Alton Brown would try to do some sort of resuscitation with, say, a Cuisinart, and eventually give up in disgust. My cooking would more likely be featured in “(I Need an) Iron Stomach, Chef.”
That said, I’m learning. I do this because I need to be helpful in the kitchen, and have frequently been completely responsible for what appears on my family’s plates during any given meal. Also, the Woodyettes have both reached the age where they need to be learning these skills, and Daddy is often asked to provide the adult backup for their efforts.
Add to this the fact that we have been studying the original thirteen colonies in our homeschool history curriculum this past year, and you will not be surprised to learn that our Headmistress and All Around Nice Person, Mrs. Woody, has found all sorts of colloquial recipes for our family to try. Which brings us to two particular pies.
The first was something that Doodle had heard about and wanted desperately to try. I have to confess that I had long ago relegated Sweet Potato Pie to the status of Broadway legend due to its appearance in Oklahoma! Ado Annie makes a Sweet Potato Pie for the big barn-raising, and the fellow who’d sampled it the previous year related how he’d gotten a huge bellyache from same. That placed the pie permanently on my No Thanks List. But when your youngest daughter is eager to try it, and wishes to actually be the one to make it, one must go along.
I was pleasantly surprised by our Sweet Potato Pie. It has a flavor reminiscent of pumpkin pie (your genial host’s all-time favorite), but much more starchy in texture. Still not moved up to a place among my favorites, but I’ll eat it if we make it again. It was much more fun to watch Doodle help with the preparations. She tends to get quite excited about the mixing and the mashing, and occasionally her exuberance gets the better of her. But for such things were paper towels created.
The next pie on our list was Shoofly Pie. This is the Pennsylvania Amish original, which means there are as many variations of recipe as there are families who make it. So we picked a likely one (read: easy enough for Daddy to comprehend and make) and enlisted the Woodyettes’ help. The fact is, they both love to help, but they haven’t quite mastered the delicate give and take that must prevail when you pack three fannies into a two-fanny kitchen. (“Daaaaad, her spoon is on my side of the bowl!” “It was not! I was just trying to put more around the edges!” “Dad?” “Daddy??” “Where ARE you, Dad?!”)
With such a gooey bottom for a filling, I was frankly surprised that it baked up so well. Nice and fluffy, and the molasses did not overpower the overall flavor. The girls did a pretty nice job, especially with the crumble that constitutes its upper crust.
So Woody is adding baking to his list of domestic skills. The way I see it, if I can’t make it look like something Alton Brown would make, I can always claim to be channeling Duff Goldman instead.
