strawberry pie

When we were growing up, we would come home from Sunday night church,
Mom and Dad would put us to bed and would promptly order a pizza.
For themselves. Not to share with the 4 children who were in bed.
Dad would try and intercept the delivery boy before he rang the door bell.
But we knew. We heard the whispers and the exchange of cash and then
there were the heady scents of melted mozarella and spicy pepperoni
that wafted down the hall. It was sheer torture. Pure and simple.
And there was always the evidence of the crushed box in the trash on Monday morning
that taunted us. How could they eat pizza without us? HOW COULD THEY?
Fast forward to present. I am now the parent with the 3 young children.
And can I tell you that my parent's pizza without children plan now strikes
me as sheer brilliance? All those times as a kid when I said,
"I will never do that to my kids when I grow up!" I take them all back.
I see it for what it is now. My parents where just surviving.
They just wanted to enjoy their pizza with a little peace on the side.
Sometimes you just want to have a meal without saying,
"There is no practicing swim strokes at the table" or
"Stop blowing bubbles in your milk" or
"You must always wear pants to dinner. Always."
So all that to say, last night, we were having friends over to chat about
their upcoming nuptials. Scott is performing the wedding.
So I made my mom's strawberry pie.
And the children watched me make the pie. They begged for the pie.
And then I dropped the bomb. "This is for the adults after you go to bed."
And Jack looked at me with a look that I can only guess graced my face
during the clandestine pizza snackings years ago and said,
"Mom! That is TORTURE!" And I said, "Yes, it is, Jack, yes, it is."
Because my mom has a fantastic strawberry pie recipe.
And then I proceeded to bribe the children. Because I am not above that.
I told them if they stayed in bed and did not come out, say, the gagillion
times that they usually come out every night they could have their piece of pie
the next day. And it worked, tsgs, it did.
We were able to hang out and eat pie and chat about the ins and outs of marriage
virtually interruption free. That is no small miracle.
I woke up this morning at 7:17 with Will's face two inches from my own.
He looked bright and sunshiney and said,
"Okay, mom! Can I have my piece of pie now?"
I thought you might need the recipe.
So you can eat it late at night and torment your children.

Mom's Strawberry Pie

In 9" pie pan pour:
1 1/2 C flour
2 T sugar
1 tsp salt
Mix in pie pan.

In seperate bowl mix:
1/2 C Canola Oil
2 T milk

Pour over flour mixture in pie pan. Mix with fork.
Pat out and shape in pie pan. Prick with fork.
Bake at 400 until light golden brown. (10-12 minutes)

Strawberry Filling:
2 C crushed strawberries
1 1/4 C Sugar
3 T corn starch
1/4 tsp salt

Bring to a boil for 5 minutes. Cook until clear. Cool.

Cut the tops off of 1 pint washed strawberries.
Fill the bottom of pie shell with the whole strawberries.
Pour cool berry mixture over the whole berries.
Put in fridge to set (at least 4 hours).
Serve with real whipped cream.

It's to die for, people. It really is.