Southern Pecan Pie — Spilled Milk

Butter and Love was the name of my mom’s church cookbook. You know the sort -- spiral-bound, crammed led with casserole creations and a month’s worth of Jell-O salads. My mom’s contribution was her pecan pie.

Let me be honest, though. Even though it seemed like half our town had a hankering for my mom’s pecan pie, there’s nothing special about the recipe. It’s nearly identical to any you might find on a bottle of corn syrup or a bag of pecans. But don’t think for a second this is one to pass up.

Nope: this pie is incredible.

For years, I’ve loved reimagining dessert classics. Chocolate pudding, campfire s’mores, strawberry shortcake: I’ve deconstructed and reconstructed, snuck out gluten, axed the dairy, replace corn syrup with agave. I’ve made my own Funfetti sprinkes (fondant and a pastry tip)! But when I make my mom’s pecan pie, I keep it simple.

And that means relying on the convenience products that my mom--like so many ‘80s moms--loved. I can still picture my mom at the grocery store, checkout line, reminding the bag boy not to put anything on top of those frozen crusts. They’re a pain to get home without breaking--probably more trouble than making your own pastry. Frozen pie crust, you may ask? Absolutely. Not that that was the secret of this recipe. My mom’s pie was made with butter and love. And corn syrup.