During the first month of our budding relationship, my partner Steve did the most amazing thing: he baked a pie for me. The deal was sealed and I was in love! The man had found the key to my heart.
Steve is an accomplished pie master, learning his craft from his father. His wild huckleberry pie is legendary at a local charity auction, earning the nonprofit a thousand dollars or more each year. All of his pies, from a birthday for me to the highly prized auction pie, begin in the same fashion. They are prepared from scratch in an old mixing bowl Steve inherited from his grandmother Flora (she baked pies too).
Our relationship is infused with pie. Steve indulges me each birthday with a home baked pie of my choice. I once gave him a beautiful ceramic pie plate with fluted edges to showcase his rustic crust. We dedicate garden space to rhubarb and strawberries so they can be featured in pies. We wander our neighborhood in search of unwanted apples left on trees and scour farmers markets for pie cherries. And, of course, we celebrate Pi Day as Pie Day!
Wild huckleberries are the most coveted pie fruit in our household. Gathering these juicy jewels take some effort and we usually devote a couple of weekends to journey into the high country of the Cascade Mountains to pick them. After we return home with our bounty, the huckleberries are carefully divided into pie-sized portions, frozen and vacuum packed for future baking.
Our match is one made in pie heaven and I gratefully embrace it. You see, as much as I adore pies, I do not bake them myself. I regularly thank the pie gods for bringing this pie master into my life!
Pie fact: I once biked 72 miles for a slice of pie. You can read about it here.