Grandma’s style, S.C. recipe become main ingredients for PIE Network

Credit two individuals with a fleeting connection in Morristown, three chirping nieces, a baker from South Carolina, a post-wedding visit and my buddy’s cordless drill for starting the PIE Network.

  The Network is a loose association of friends and family who make and distribute apple pies to recognize people who could use a lift. Perhaps they’ve undergone surgery, lost a loved one, had a baby or performed a good deed for their neighbors. An apple pie shows up on their doorstep, usually in a pizza box with a large shamrock on the label.

    Whenever I gathered my friends to make pies, we would make a video focused on our latest production innovation, deriding conservative politics, or just to poke fun at ourselves. I planned to mount them on a Facebook page or my blog site, hence the Network name, but few people clamored to see them. However, we did establish ourselves as a network of piemakers and a wellspring of kindness.

   The roots of the piemaking go back to winters in the 1970s when my maternal grandmother would close her house in Middleville, head north to the river, and spend three or four months with our family of eight. Wading into that chaos doesn’t make sense by today’s standards.

   But in the kitchen, if you were serious and listened — she didn’t tolerate shenanigans — you could watch Grandma Maxwell mix dough, crimp the crust edges or sprinkle sugar. It’s an endearing memory.

   Grandma probably met Morristown Fuel & Supply partner Jim Spilman many Sundays at St. John the Evangelist, but she had passed years before I was treated to a slice of Jim’s apple pie. It was tasty, but I immediately compared it to Grandma’s. She diced her apples much finer Than Jim, and they cooked more thoroughly.

  The next step occurred in Ohio, after our wedding, while visiting our friend Lois. She served us an outstanding apple pie, shared the ingredients, but confessed that it wasn’t an old family recipe; it came from a baker in South Carolina.

   Armed with a memory of Grandma and the recipe, I figured if Jim Spilman could bake, so could I. But I cut corners, opting for ready-made crust straight from the dairy case. I can still hear my sisters and nieces chiding me for using store-bought crust. So I started making my own, stirring, kneading, rolling, crimping, all with Grandma’s memory swirling in my head. I snuck in Lois’s technique, brushing egg whites and sprinkling coarse sugar on the crust. This is where I can get a sore arm from patting myself on the back – the pies were tremendous. Everyone raved over the crust.

  One of our better innovations developed from my pal Dan’s weariness with peeling apples. He happened across a YouTube video in which someone with a cordless drill impaled an apple on a paddle bit. While the apple spun, he deftly applied the peeler.

  “It blew my mind,’’ Dan said. “I grabbed an apple and my drill with a ¾-inch bit and gave it a go. It was so easy. I had the apples spinning like tires at a Goodyear shop.’’

   Then I bought a Veg-O-Matic to save on the dicing. Thank you, Ron Popeil.

 The hunt for great-tasting apples took me to my favorite farm market, which relied on temperature-controlled vaults to keep them fresh throughout the year. The types of apples are crucial too. The tartness of McIntosh apples, blended with Cortlands or Granny Smiths, boosted the flavor.

   Early in our apple pie journey we hit the motherlode of freebies. Our friend JoAnne invited us to collect unlimited apples from four trees on the edge of her property. Soon we were dicing through 47 grocery bags of apples, popping Guinness draft cans and listening to the Clancy Brotherrs. The Irish Mafia — McNamara, Mahany and Malloy — stored them in their freezers. 

  Our all-male enterprise was halted by the pandemic. Katie Holleran jumped in, modeling her specialty apron sent in from the Aldriches in Ohio. Then I lost Dan for a year, as he fought off a bout of cancer.

  “Being able to survive and continue to help make pies made the whole experience that much sweeter,’’ Dan said. “I don’t take anything for granted anymore.’’

   The waning days of summer, golf season, travel and vacations have idled our piemaking, but the list of deserving people keeps growing. My former office partner underwent leg surgery, a young couple had their first child, and Katie’s snowshoe coach organized a sports camp for children children in Jamaica. They’re all getting pies. My wiseceracking friend from County Kerry just had a pacemaker installed. He will receive the perfect jab on his label: “The PIE Network wishes John a speedy recovery, and thanks the doctors for finding his heart.’’

  The hardest part of this endeavor will be to keep my volunteers engaged. Katie Holleran sent a video from Cincinnati last week as she made zucchini bread with her Aunt Ann. “Dad, welcome to The Zucchini Network.’’

  Traitor? Defector?

     Morristown native Jim Holleran is a retired teacher and sports editor from Rochester. Reach him at jimholleran29@gmail.com or view past columns under “Reflections of River Rat’’ at https://hollerangetsitwrite.com/blog/

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