Easy as Pie (recipe: Egg Custard Pie)
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In the mid to late 1960′s, my grandparents were finally able to afford a washing machine. While that simplified their lives to some degree because it meant no more lugging everything and everybody to the laundromat, it presented another set of challenges. Now washday had to be scheduled around the weather. They couldn’t afford the dryer to go along with the washer, so the clothes had to be solar dried. On this particular day, we were up bright and early to start the wash and get it hung out because, “it looks like we might have a cloud comin’ up”. The first load out of the washer was plopped into a big green plastic clothes basket. Granny grabbed her apron that held her stash of wooden clothes pins, tied on the apron and we both lugged the basket of clothes to the backyard clothes line. As she picked through the basket of clothes to give me the “easy” ones to hang out, she told me to reach in the apron, grab a handful of the wooden clothes and pin them on my clothes making it easier for me to have access to them. My bundle of wet clothes to hang consisted of handkerchiefs, undershirts and socks. As I struggled trying to manage the wet clothes and keep them off the ground and on the clothesline, I noticed that she moved deftly and swiftly, not missing a beat. Her clothes were perfectly straight with similar types sorted and hanging together. Meanwhile, I manage to get three handkerchiefs and two pairs of socks up. I don’t know what it is about seeing clothes flapping in the wind hanging on a clothesline but something about the sight of it appeals to me. Clothesline are not allowed in most neighborhoods. Some consider a clothesline tacky. It’s not the clothesline itself that I love to see, it’s the clothes swaying back and forth in the breeze. Especially white clothes. They almost glisten in the sun. Nothing smells better to me than bed linens that have been line dried. Snuggle up in bed, take a big whiff of that clean fresh scent and your mind is cleared and ready for sleep. It’s like a magic potion.
With the last load out of the washer, we are almost finished getting the clothes on the line. There’s not any evidence of imminent rainy weather and it appears the timing was perfect. Granny says, “Let go in and get our dinner started. I’ve got a new pie recipe I want you to try to make fer us.” Dinner to her meant the noon meal. This is a holdover from times when farmers would need their largest meal in the middle of the day to carry them through the very long and tiring workday. We entered the back door to the kitchen and she opened a drawer and handed me a piece of paper written in someone else’s handwriting that said:
Blender Custard Pie
4 eggs
1/2 c. flour
2 c. sweet milk
sugar
1/2 c. butter
vanilla flavor
Blend in blender. Pour into pie pan.
She very gleefully explained to me that you don’t even need a pie crust or a mixer to make this pie. And you don’t mess up a bowl because you put everything right in the blender. Glancing at the recipe I saw only a few ingredients and a few words. This pie must be really simple. She set about her little kitchen gathering ingredients and implements for me. I sat down at the black and white enamel table in front of the pie safe that held the remnants from breakfast, bacon and biscuits, and maybe some cornbread from last nights’ supper. She instructed me to reach in the safe and get me something to eat because she knew I must be hungry. She was right! A cold biscuit and bacon hit the spot. As she placed a pot of Southern peas on to cook, I started measuring ingredients for this magic pie. Eggs, flour and milk were measured directly in the blender. Next is sugar. Ummmm. There’s no amount. ”Granny”, I asked, “how much sugar do I need to use?” She answered, “Well, shug, it’s just owin’ to how sweet ya want it. I usually put in about a cup and a half, maybe a tad bit more.” With a cup and half of sugar measured and poured in the blender, I next unwrapped a stick of butter, 1/2 cup, and threw the stick into the blender with the rest of the ingredients. She scowled. “What did I do wrong?”, I asked. “You’ve got to melt that butter.” Looking back at the recipe three more times, I still didn’t see a word about melting the butter. And the stick of butter was swimming around in the blender with eggs,milk and sugar. Nothing else to do but to fish it out, melt it in a pan on the stove in the absence of a microwave and let it gain re-entry into the blender. The next ingredient said, “vanilla flavor”. Oh, brother! As if she could read my mind, I heard, “Just put cha a capful of vanilla in it.” All ingredients of the magic pie are now present and accounted for. The blender whirs until everything is consolidated. I carefully pour the mixture into a deep dish pie pan and place it in a 375 degree preheated oven for………how many minutes? Good grief! Responding to my question, “How long do we bake it?”, she said, “You just have to know when it’s done.” And I thought this was going to be easy. The pie finished baking in about 55 minutes. It was a perfect finish to our meal of salmon patties, peas and cornbread.
I’ve made Granny’s magic pie many, many times since that day. Having a granddaughter of my own now, it will be a happy day when I can teach her to bake the magic pie. I won’t hold out on the ingredient amounts, either. My Granny wasn’t doing that to be mean and hard to get along with. That was the way she cooked and the way she taught me to cook. She just reckoned you had enough sense to know basic things and didn’t see the need to tell you something you already knew. So, when Ella gets in the kitchen with me, I will have the recipe written on her own special recipe card that she can keep forever and ever. On second thought, I’m passing down the recipe card that I have right now that has yellowed and shows food stains. I think that will mean more to her. Gosh, I wish I had a clothesline.
Y’all come see us.
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Custard Pie
While Granny delighted in mixing this in the blender, I use my 35 year old avocado green hand mixer. I also mess up a mixing bowl. Only one bowl, though! This is a simple basic little custard pie that would never win a beauty contest but has such a comforting flavor. It’s meant to look rustic because that’s what it is. I will give you the complete recipe.
4 eggs
1/2 cup self rising flour
2 cups milk
1 1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup butter
1 teaspoon vanilla flavoring
Mix. Pour. Bake.
Coat a deep dish pie pan with oil or butter. You’ve got a whole stick of butter in this recipe. You can spare some. The only deep dish pie plate I have happens to be an apple pie one.
Add eggs before you add anything else. No need to put eggs in a separate dish first and mess up that dish. You can see if you have egg shells. If you do, take them out.
Everything else goes in. I’m not so sure the butter has to be melted. I think you could dice it up and it would work just fine. I haven’t tested that out yet.
Pour into a pie pan. See the bubbles in the upper right hand corner? We want to get rid of those by rapping gently, ah say gently, on the counter.
See, no more bubbles.
Bake at 375 degrees for about 55 minutes. The middle of the pie will start to spit and sputter and the pie juggles but doesn’t slosh when move it. It sets better if you chill it thoroughly before slicing. Got any clothes you need hang out on the line?
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oh how i luv your blog. i know my nonnie made this pie. i can almost taste it. thanks for the memories!!!
You are so welcome, she!
Gramma, clean sheets hanging on the clothesline and swaying in the gentle breeze, and baking with her….this brought back so many delightful memories of times with her….thank you!
Thanks, Mona! Sweet, sweet memories.
Can’t figure out which I love more — the recipe or the story of you and your granny and the clothesline. I have SO many great memories of my Gran and hanging out clothes, and you aren’t kiddin’ about how wonderful sun-dried sheets smell. Absolute heaven. They’ll never make a dryer sheet scent to fake that, ever. I told my better half a couple of years ago that since we now live in this anything-goes, laid-back semi-rural area, I wanted a clothesline! Don’t have one yet but there’s always hope.
When my Gran was still with us but way up in years and in poor health, I would go to her house every Saturday with my mom to do whatever chores needed done. Sometimes, one of my then-teenaged girls would go too. One particular sunny Saturday, 18-year-old Amy tagged along. Gran was ready for us; a load of wash was ready to go. I asked my Amy to come and help me. Gran’s clothesline was way out back in her yard by the garden; Amy was uncharacteristically quiet as we walked out there but I didn’t think much about it. I set the basket down on the little tin table that was there for that purpose, grabbed a couple of clothespins, and commenced … and noticed that Amy was just standing there, hesitant. “Mom, how do you do this?” she asked. I just looked at her with a clothespin in my mouth and, I’m sure, a gobsmacked look on my face. Then I realized; she had never, and I mean never, known any other way to dry clothes than in a dryer. None of the houses we’d lived in had had a clothesline. So, at 18, she finally learned the finer points of “pegging out the wash” that her momma had known from knee-high to a grasshopper. And my Gran was very amused about it when we went back inside and told her!
Mona,
This story made me HOWL! Thank you so much for sharing!!
I love this story! And the pie. And the grandmother. And the grandaughter. And the great granddaughter.
I meant to say great GREAT grandaughter. I love her.
I love the grandmother and the great granddaughter and the great-great granddaughter!
This sounds delicious! My family makes a similar pie that incorporates shredded coconut. I am not a big fan of coconut, so I’m thinking I can try your recipe instead. Thanks for sharing!
I’ve had this pie with coconut, also. I like but then, I like coconut.
My grandmother’s peach custard pie was my favorite pie. Your story and recipe brought back many memories of her teaching me how to make it. Thank you for sharing. Custard pie is sill one of my favorites. I have loved reading your blog and I am looking forward to coming back.
Paula,
Thank you so much for your sweet comments. I hope you visit us often. I wish I had a piece of your grandmother’s peach custard pie!
I love this story. I too, grew up with clothes dried on the line and love the smell of fresh sheets just brought in. I could sit and watch them blow in the breeze for hours.
I giggled a little at the recipe. I especially like that it specifies “sweet milk” I was JUST telling my yankee husband about sweet milk the other day. My granny always called regular milk that. She would’ve crumbled the leftover cornbread in a glass full of sweet milk, or better yet, buttermilk for a snack. My daddy still does that.
Thanks for sharing!
Paula,
My grandparents always called regular milk sweet milk. It was sweet milk vs buttermilk. Cornbread and buttermilk was very popular. My grandparents knew who made the best buttermilk and they would drive way off to somewhere to buy it. Thanks for reading and thanks for being so kind and generous with your support.
I actually had (and still have ) a clothesline that was in my backyard when I moved here 23 years ago. I seldom used it-and as the kids got to be teens-it became a plant trellis-
in the winter the plants would die back-and you could tell it just might have been a clothesline. The comments from my kids and their friends – is that REALLY a CLOTHESLINE? uh- what is that- those wood T things… I probably could hang clothes if I wanted to, as this winter I dug out the moonvine that wrapped around each post at far ends of the side yard. You can see them again…waiting for comments once swimming starts…so Jackie- if you want to cool off in the pool and bring a wet load over- I think we can have it dry in under an hour if it’s a day like today! I would have to get a line back between the posts tho!
Jenny,
How sweet of you! Now if you get that clothesline ready to go, I might just have to come over there and watch my clothes sway back and forth! You’re so sweet. <3
I so love your stories of family, tradition, and food … keep them coming because I so enjoy them!
I hang my clothes out everyday,every load all spring, summer and into fall. I love it ! The clothes smell wonderful and fresh ! I too enjoy watching the clothes blowing in the wind,swaying back and forth with each breeze.
I’m ready right now to get in my kitchen and whip up this pie… But it’s late so i’ll hold off ’til morning!
Ginger
Ginger,
I always appreciate your thoughtful comments. What do you think it is about the clothes swaying on the clothes line? I haven’t been able to put my finger on it yet.
Oh, you are so right. The sheer luxury of climbing into a bed made with sheets that were line-dried outside. My grandmother let me help her hang out the wash, too (wooden clothespins and apron too!) As I recall, some people didn’t like the way bath towels felt when dried outside but I loved them, too. And the sound of the linens “flapping” in the breeze – so soothing. I can envision my grandfather’s faded blue chambray work shirts, too. I grew up in “the suburbs” but spent nearly every weekend, school spring breaks, and weeks at a time during the summer at my grandparents’ farm. I treasure the memories . . . .could ramble on about cleaning the silks from an ear of corn with a “brush” made with straw from a broom, shelling peas and having a glass of fresh-squeezed lemonade on the front porch swing . . . . . .thanks so much for sharing your recipes and memories!
Karen,
Your comments mean so much to me. Thank you for sharing your sweet, sweet memories!
Not only did my Grandma hang out clothes, but my Mama did too and it was one of my chores so I got pretty good at it -(but don’t currentlty have a clothesline – does anyone anymore???) loved your story! – and the pie – I remember the recipe being such a big deal because it made its own crust! It was yummy, I think the one I had was coconut – and it is good too! My grandma always had a cake or pie or “something sweet” in her kitchen whenever anyone dropped by or when the grandkids came over.
Ann,
The fact that it made it’s own crust was what had my Granny just fascinated! It is pretty clever. Offering a sweet treat is a time honored Southern custom. I think it’s a might good one!
I love this pie recipe! I do wish I’d had someone to teach me to cook when I was young – I used to watch my mom and had to pick up any tips I could grab from her. It used to freak her out, I think, having someone watch her make dinner every night!
As for the clothesline, that takes me back. My family didn’t own a dryer until after I moved out, and just my luck too. I was the one who always hung the clothes out! But it’s true about the line-dried smell. Still, I’ll take a dryer any day over having to rush outside when it starts to rain to grab everything off the line!
I just wanted to comment and say that I really enjoyed reading your blog post here. It was very informative and I also digg the way you write! Keep it up and I’ll be back to read more in the future
Thanks , Kloe! I hope you visit often!
Great post Jackie, I will make this pie this weekend for sure. We lived with my grandparents growing up and had a wringer washer and no dryer until they sold the house in the mid 70′s. 3 adults and 4 kids in the house create a lot of laundry. And although I so loved the clothes dried on the line in good weather, that’s not so much the case in the Midwest in the winter. The basement was always cold and damp with clothes hung taking days to dry and then the process would start over again!
Mary Ann,
There’s a lot to be said for solar drying. There’s also lots to be said for the convenience of electric clothes dryers!
Enjoy the pie!
Never made an egg custard pie! Can’t wait to try!
Enjoy!
My Mother used to make this……don’t guess I’ve ever tried. I will now! A little chilly to hang out the “wash” this morning, but I do love my “triple liner”. Nothing smells better than sheets fresh off of the clothesline
. Have a wonderful day. I just love your posts!
Thanks! Lisa! May your days be filled with the smell of line dried sheets and warm egg custard pie.
wow, does this take me back. i am a young 70 and this was her favorite pie. we washed our clothes in a tub ringer, hung them on clotheslines. all items had to be matched and in order. no ugly hanging clothes on her line. she was 94 when she passed away
Elaine,
What a sweet story you shared. It’s amazing the pride people took in having their clothes hanging “just right” on the line. We could do with more of that homespun attitude today.
I love this memory. I think I’ll go hang my sheets on the line and do some baking. My grandson is only 6mos old but we WILL share this in a few years…thanx!
Stacey,
Your grandson will remember those memories forever and ever. He may even write stories about them someday.
I love your story surrounding this custard. You and your granny remind me so much of me and my great-grandmother who taught me all I know about cooking. Oh yes, I washed clothes on a wringer type washer and hung outside on the clothesline. She taught me everything I know about cooking and that was by the time I was 16 and she passed away but it has carried me all my life. Even though she’s been gone 43 years I remember her and I cooking together so vividly. Your growing up and childhood and cooking is such an inspiration to me.
Patricia,
There were lots of good lessons learned about life while hanging out clothes. I hope and pray all that wisdom will not be lost now that clotheslines are almost a thing of the past.
Could this be made with Splenda or Equal? Do you have any sugar free dessert recipes?
Patricia,
I don’t bake with sugar substitutes so I certainly can’t profess to be an expert. Some of the sugar substitutes advertise as being a replacement for sugar in baking. I recommend following the manufacturers recommendations regarding replacement ratios.