"(The pie should be eaten) while it is yet florescent, white or creamy yellow, with the merest drip of candied juice along the edges, (as if the flavor were so good to itself that its own lips watered!) of a mild and modest warmth, the sugar suggesting jelly, yet not jellied, the morsels of apple neither dissolved nor yet in original substance, but hanging as it were in a trance between the spirit and the flesh of applehood...then, O blessed man, favored by all the divinities! eat, give thanks, and go forth, 'in apple-pie order!'"

~ Henry Ward Beecher

 

"When you say that something is 'as American as apple pie,' what you're really saying is that the item came to this country from elsewhere and was transformed into a distinctly American experience."

~ John Lehndorff

John Lehndorff
line decor
  
line decor

 
 
 
 

 
 
"If you want to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first create the universe."
         ~Carl Sagan
  


 

    

 

      My Pie Credentials

  • Founding Executive Director, American Pie Council
  • Spokesperson, National Pie Day (January 23)
  • Director, Great American Pie Festival
  • Judge for dozens of pie contests
    including the National Pie Championships
  • Pie-baking teacher, Cooking School of the Rockies

pie lady

  
 

In crust,
I trust
By John Lehndorff
(From the This I Believe archive)

I believe in pie. My favorite food, bar none, is warm, fresh wild blueberry pie a la moded with good vanilla bean ice cream. But my faith transcends simple taste. When push comes to shove (as it so often does in life), I trust what lies within flaky crust.

I honestly believe that if we all sat down and ate pie together, we’d find common ground. Our nation would be a better place if we made pie, not war. Each of us deserves their piece of the pie, not pie in the sky. We like to brag on things that are “as American as apple pie,” which is really to say that pie, like all us citizens, emigrated here from elsewhere and found a home. America’s allies and its enemies also understand pastry in its myriad manifestations. They believe in baklava, empanadas, samosas, b’stilla, hammentaschen, pasties, tarts or quiche. No matter what you call it, pie epitomizes abundance and celebration.

Years ago I believed in pie so deep-dishedly that I took it on as my mission. I yearned to be America’s Pie Guy. I was the first execut ive director of the American Pie Council, the only organization devoted to saving our national dessert.
I taught pie-making classes, celebrated National Pie Day on Jan. 23, devised pie charts, and judged innumerable contest pies for their crust, their filling and their lovability. I tasted a whole lot of badly made apple pies in my time.

While I certainly talked a good pie, it wasn’t until last summer that I truly understood the meaning of pie. My dear mother, Rose, passed away at the age of 91. One day afterwards, I stood alone in my kitchen. I spied some peaches on the counter. I knew I had some frozen blueberries and blackberries. They needed to become pie. More critically, I desperately needed to make pie. I worked quickly and as always without a recipe or a net. After I pulled it golden brown from the oven and the pie perfume wafted about me, my eyes abruptly gushed with tears. I would not be able to bring mom a wedge, and enjoy her enjoying it.

Not now. Not ever. The next day, my 14-year-old son walked in the house and his eyes lit up like Christmas morning. “Mmmm, pie,” he mumbled. Later, as he grabbed seconds, he added: “Great pie, Dad.”

Ah, pie. It’s a continuum that keeps on giving, as long as we keep making it for those we love. No wonder mathematicians also believe in pi, or 3.14159265358… etc ., involving as it does, the perfect geometry of an unbroken circle, the shape of a pie.

Before the greatest generation of pie-makers passes on, I urge everyone to record your family’s most precious oral history. Stand in the kitchen with a flour-sprinkled, pie-baking elder and learn first-hand when pie dough crust “feels” right and is ready to be rolled. No database contains this knowledge. Pay it forward by passing the zen of pie-making (and the rolling pin) to the next generation.
This fall, I will go to Pie Night, which takes place annually in an old Grange hall on the plains. About 60 friends gather and each person — including my son and I, brings a homemade pie. It’s a beautiful sight, all those pies in a line on the folding tables surrounded by pie-eyed people.
Admittedly, my pastry devotion comes at a cost. I suffer from a permanent case of pie thighs, a small price to pay for the healing power of mince, pumpkin, green chile tamale, lemon meringue, sweet potato and chicken pot pie.

I believe I’ll have another slice.

The Boulder origins of
National Pie Day
By Sue Deans
Tuesday, January 23, 2007

If you woke up this morning feeling peckish for pie, there's a reason. Today, Jan. 23, is National Pie Day. The annual occasion, once uniquely Boulder, was born here, begun by Charlie Papazian, and takes place annually on his birthday. He is also founder of the Great American Beer Festival, now in its 25th year.

After Papazian started the American Pie Council, he became busier with the beer fest. My friend and former colleague John Lehndorff took over, making the Pie Council a national organization and Pie Day a national event. It was all about saving homemade pie. "Make pie, not war," Lehndorff has been known to say. Then, in the 1990s, Pie-gate took place. No longer is there a Boulder connection.

Papazian was not available to talk this week, but Lehndorff, now dining critic at the Rocky Mountain News, agreed to fill me in on the tale. "It makes me sad," Lehndorff said of the American Pie Council's fate. "It was from the very start a very Boulder thing." It began as an informal, annual festival where people brought home-baked pies to the Harvest House to share.

Soon it went national — one year, Lehndorff got up at 2 a.m. and did radio interviews from Halifax, Nova Scotia, to Hawaii. The festival was headquartered in Boulder and usually took place here, including its annual Great American Pie Festival including the National Pie Championships. Expert judges evaluated the pies on: 1) Crust and filling; 2) Sliceability; 3) Do I love this pie?

The Pie Council became a nonprofit organization, but commercial and professional pie interests began to enter the contest and lobbied for categories that fit their products, such as frozen cherry pie. "They wanted to be able to put a sticker on their pie that said it was judged America's best pie," Lehndorff said.

Lehndorff took time off work, started the Council's magazine called Pie Times and pursued his lifetime goal of becoming America's Pie Guy. The Pie Council had a successful event at the Boulderado in 1997.

In 1998 came "Pie-gate," as the Camera called it at the time. Pie judges picked no winners in about 10 categories, notably the commercial ones. The board, dominated by commercial pie interests, demanded that winners be named in all categories and rejudged the contest, Lehndorff said, naming winners that the judges had not.

Lehndorff, advocate for homemade pie and excellent restaurant pie, quit. He's wistful now but admits, "In reality, few people make pie anymore." It's a shame. "One lovely slice," he says, might bring homemade pie back into vogue.

Information about the current incarnation of the National Pie Council can be found at www.piecouncil.org. The Web site features tips on getting media coverage for products and information about the APC/Crisco National Pie Championships.

Saving homemade pie is up to all of us — we must pick up the rolling pin and run with it. Today, just for a little while, forget about the New Year's diet and find a good piece of pie. Or make one. And when you've finished your pie, lean back, rub your tummy and smile. It's National Pie Day.

Sue Deans, senior editor at the Daily Camera, writes a weekly local column.

Slice of Life – When you reach a fork, do us a favor: Choose pie.
By Robin Chotzinoff / Westword