Case in point

I decided I wanted to make a pecan pie for Christmas. Specifically, I wanted to make my mom's pecan pie, which was much admired.

I looked in her recipe box. No pecan pie.

I looked in my recipe box. No pecan pie.

Mom was not the type to keep her special recipes secret, and I knew she would never let me grow to adulthood without telling me how to make her pecan pie.

Then, I saw this sitting on the shelf.


Her Betty Crocker cookbook from 1961, so well used that it is held together with duct tape. In desperation, I turned to the pie section. Et voila!


Pecan pie! And more importantly, it had an X penciled next to it.


Mom loved collecting recipes, and I suggested one time that she should mark the important ones, the ones the family considered the "real" version. Over the next few years, she did just that, so I knew I had found the king of the pecan pie recipes.

Incidentally, the secret is to use light corn syrup, not dark, and try to forget for a few days that you even used the now-vilified corn syrup in anything. Also, the pie crust must be in one piece, without any patches or tears. The filling will seep right through a patch, and then you have an unholy mess.

Terry just called Starbucks and found out that they are open until 4:00 PM. I guess we are headed out for a holiday Frapuccino.

Merry Christmas!