A Thanksgiving Story and a Pecan Pie Recipe

In honor of Thanksgiving Day, I'm bypassing Murder and Mayhem and presenting a gentle story and sharing a pumpkin pie recipe. 

May everyone have a wonderful Thanksgiving with someone they love!
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Thanksgiving is the perfect time for reminiscing, and for telling family stories around the table. These generational memories are often centered around cooking and good food, and these special tales of family history should be treasured and never forgotten.

True Family Stories

This Thanksgiving story was included in DEVOTED TO COOKING, Inspiration for the Aspiring Chef in Everyone.  Written by Jacqueline King and Jennifer Sohl. Available in print or ebook download.

Memories of Papa Peeling Pecans for the Grandkids

“We called our grandfather, Papa,” June Butts, now a grandmother herself, said. “Back in those days different generations of the family lived in the same house, and it was wonderful to grow up with an older person who had the time to tell stories and to teach us kids about the generations past. I think maybe that’s one reason why families were closer back then.”

The comely woman smiled and the faraway look that came into her blue eyes told me she had transported herself back to South Texas and a simpler life sometime in the 1950’s.

“We had a pecan tree and Papa peeled pecans for the kids. We’d sit in a circle at his feet, listen to his tales, and eat the perfectly shelled and halved nuts as he passed them around.”

“Peeled pecans?” I asked, trying to imagine how such a feat might be possible. “How could he peel pecans?”

It was Thanksgiving Day and I had been invited to join June’s family for a traditional dinner of turkey, dressing and all of the trimmings. We were sitting around the table drinking coffee and savoring that mellow, sated satisfaction that fills a group of friends during happy times.

“With his pocket knife,” June said.

“His pocket knife?” I asked. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not!” June’s robust laugh was typical of a woman who was Texas born and bred. “He peeled those pecans just the same way you’d peel an orange. He’d slice off the top and the bottom, cut slits around the nuts and then just peel off the hulls. Those pecans came out in perfect halves and he’d hand them to us kids.”

“That must have been one sharp knife,” I said, wondering how he kept from cutting off his fingers.

“That it was,” June said. “And he could peel those nuts really fast. Sometimes he’d peel enough for Mama to make us some pies.” She sighed with remembered pleasure. “Mmm—mmm—mmm, those pies were good! We never had much money, but we had happy times, anyway. God was always good to my family.”

“I’ll bet you learned to cook from your own mother,” I said.

“Sure did. Mama and Daddy had eleven kids, and I was helping stir up dinner as soon as I could hold a spoon and stand on a stool to reach the table.”

It happened that we were drinking Texas Pecan flavored coffee. I took a sip of the hot brew and savored the rich flavor. Pecans, family and holidays equal pure pleasure, I thought. Everyone sitting at the table owned their own cell phones and computers, but some things never change. The memory of “peeled pecans,” outranked any of the electronic pleasures available to the diners.

Only the delicious food that we shared stayed the same.

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Loretta Carson’s Pecan Pie

1 Scant cup sugar

1 cup dark Karo Syrup

3 eggs

3 Tablespoons melted butter or margarine

Pinch salt

1 teaspoon vanilla

1 cup pecans

Beat eggs and sugar until blended. Add Karo syrup and mix well, then add melted butter, salt, vanilla and pecans. Mix well and pour into 9 inch unbaked pie crust. Bake at 400 degrees for 8 minutes. Turn heat down to 325 degrees and bake for 35 minutes. (Center will be set.)

Happy Thanksgiving to All,

Jackie King

THANKSGIVING STORIES FROM CHILDHOOD MEMORIES

By Jackie King

A normal childhood has always seemed a mystery to me. My family life wasn’t miserable because I had a strong, smart mother who never gave up. But my growing up was unorthodox, very unorthodox. We lived hand-to-mouth and the only constant in our lives was my grandparents who lived on a farm in the Oklahoma Panhandle.

Gilbert (Gib) and Lillie Hodges traveled from Arkansas very early in the 20^th century and brought with them two small daughters; the oldest was Aunt Lena and the youngest was my mother, Delia. Nine other children were born to them and all grew to adulthood except for one girl who was never named. Her tombstone simply reads: Baby Girl Hodges. Perhaps life on the prairie was too hard to find names for children who only lived a day or two. There were many infants buried sans first names in the Forgan, Oklahoma cemetery.

But back to my childhood. Mother taught school and she never got a check in the summertime, so we spent those lean months with my grandparents. Living on that flat, grassy land taught me to love the plains and the resolute people who had settled a land where many built their houses from sod.

Perhaps that’s why it seemed so natural for me to spin three novellas set in 1889 Oklahoma Territory. (Not in the panhandle; of course, more in the center of the state.) One of these stories, Thanksgiving with a Mysterious Stranger, is included in the anthology called TWO FOXY HENS AND ONE BIG ROOSTER. The theme was holidays, and I picked Thanksgiving. Here’s the gist of it:

Hannah Smith determines to prove out her land stake in 1889 Guthrie, O.T., after her mail-order husband is murdered. This arduous task is complicated by a villain who tries to kill Hannah. A rancorous rooster and a mysterious stranger complicate her life, but this resilient woman still manages to solve her husband’s murder and save her homestead.

Ah yes, I always have to bump someone off in my stories. This one was especially fun to write. I’d just heard a talk by Nancy Picard who said it was good to start a story talking about food. The favorite thing that I put into my mouth is coffee, so that’s how I started. Here are the first couple of paragraphs so you can judge for yourself:

All Hannah Smith ever wanted was a house with yellow curtains, a small garden and a good cup of coffee. Right now she’d settle for the coffee, but she had only enough grounds for one final pot and she was saving that treat for Thanksgiving Day.

It was her own fault. She’d deliberately annoyed her brand-new husband George, who disliked coffee anyway. Sometimes a woman’s mouth opened and words popped out unbidden. And because of that one slip, George swore he’d never again buy her another ounce of coffee.

If you love Thanksgiving and enjoy historical mysteries, then Thanksgiving with a Mysterious Stranger is the story for you. You’ll also get two other novellas in the anthology THE FOXY HENS AND ONE BIG ROOSTER.

 

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