Blueberry Pie

Tonight my mom, the pie-crust master, taught me how to make a blueberry pie. She took out her tattered Joy of Cooking and went through the instructions, step by step, explaining to me in great detail. First you fold the chilled Crisco and butter into the flour. Don’t work the dough too much. You know you still have to add four tablespoons of water, right? I stood there, in stunned silence, as I thought to myself: Doesn’t she know that I already know this? I learned the mechanisms of pie-crust making in my Food Science class! Yeah, I can read directions just as well as you can…

I kept my mouth shut. Try to learn something from her, Adair! I scolded myself. Just because you think you know it all, does not mean that you actually do! Time passed.

Like cutting Crisco into flour, things eventually smoothed out. We worked together like a well-oiled machine. One of us rolled out the crusts while the other mixed up the filling. The pies went into the oven, baked, and came out beautiful and golden-brown.

The experience definitely made me think. I’ve been reading articles on the five stages of change (precontemplation, contemplation, preparation, action, and maintenance). The authors indicate that the best results happen when dietitians tailor interventions to the specific stage the patient is in. For example, it would not be appropriate to offer whole foods recipes to someone who sees no problem eating at fast food restaurants for every meal. Giving appropriate advice requires being able to recognize the stage in which the patient is. Today I realized that recognizing stages of change may be more difficult than it seems. If my mom can’t recognize that I’ve been around the kitchen a few times, how am I going to spot a contemplative patient?!

And then it hit me like a ton of bricks. It wasn’t that my mom didn’t recognize my ability to bake. The reason she was being so specific is because she wanted us to succeed! She wanted our pies to come out perfect and delicious. I mean, come on, she is the pie-curst master! She didn’t care what else I had learned about making crust. She wanted to pass her unique pie crust knowledge on to me. She wanted me to know the way she does it!

Tonight was an example of food tradition at its best: One mom passing down personal baking knowledge to her daughter. This is the way it should always be. Darn-it-all, why don’t more parents teach their children how to prepare wholesome, healthy meals!? Oh, that’s right, because most parents were never taught how to cook by their parents. Sigh, and the ignorance was passed down through the generations. Woe, the sad state of this country’s food culture… I feel lucky that I have a loving mother who can teach me the priceless art of baking a blueberry pie.