"To make an apple pie from scratch, you must first invent the universe." Carl Sagan
Why is it so special to make a pie for someone? Why is it different than bringing flowers, or sending a letter, or giving some art, or a nice piece of jewelry - all of which are wonderful. After all, a gift from the heart, spontaneous or long thought out, is a gift that touches and lasts for the recipient.
I think making a pie is a lot like making art. The process itself is unknown to the recipient, but the energy and experience of the maker is embedded in the final product. Fingers touch the dough and mold it, apples are cut by hand, care is taken to mix and match spices like paints. One does not go online to make a pie, one does not rush a pie, the pie is it's own entity. It starts as a bunch of ingedrients all from live beings, and ends up in one final shape. The dirt rooted the trees that grew the apples and wheat and the bees pollinated them and cows kindly made butter. Oh, let's not forget our chicken ladies, brilliantly making eggs. Spices, a tish of salt, squeeze of a lemon - all act together for the final act.
Making a pie is not drudgery. If it is, I believe one might be wise to rest a while, until they can fully enjoy the process. Otherwise, the first taste might be off putting for the recipient.
How many of us, when baking, are brought back to a similar time in the kitchen with our own mothers - I suppose this would be categorized under the buzz word of nostalgia - but I know that in any pie I make, there is a little bit of my own mother in it, whose hands taught me to roll my first dough, whose recipe cards I still have in her own hand writing. This should not be a sad memory for anyone, it is part of the eternal heart wisdom we all possess. Clearly, I have found, pies are love.
