A strawberry pie affair

Hot summer days are perfect for savoring the sweet taste of pie-- especially since right now we're on the farm. Out here, nearly every meal is followed by a home-baked treat. The Midwestern women are proud bakers and seem to always have something fresh from the oven on hand.

So today I dusted off my pie-making skills and made this creation. All it needs is some whip cream and it's ready for any friends or family that decide to drop in. (Somehow we always end up with a crowd, especially if the word goes that that food is being served!)

Here's the basic recipe for my off-the-cuff creation:
Flaky Pie Crust
2 cups flour
1 stick butter, softened
6-8 TBS water
1/2 cup sugar

Combine the flour and sugar in a chilled bowl. Cut butter into pieces and cut in with a pastry blender, potato masher, or fork until the dough resembles coarse crumbs. Add 2-3 TBS water at a time and stir until the dough becomes soft and pulls away from the edges. Roll into a ball and set on a floured surface. Flatten dough slightly into a disk and sprinkle with more flour. Let sit for 10 minutes before rolling out and placing in a pie plate. Flute the edges, prick the bottom, and cover the bottom of the crust with tin foil.
Bake at 350 degrees for 10-15 minutes until slightly firm.

Summertime Strawberry Pie
4-5 cups berries, cut into quarters
1/2 cup sugar
1 tsp water
3 TBS flour or corn starch

Cook berries, sugar, and water over medium heat, stirring often, until the mixture thickens slightly and the berries soften. Add flour and continue cooking and stirring 1 more minute. Remove from heat and pour into baked pie shell. 
Bake for 20-ish minutes at 350 degrees until edges of pie are browned. Remove from heat and allow to cool.
Serve chilled with whip cream. 

New neighbors and fresh eggs

After our refrigerator went out with the storm we had a few weeks ago, I'd been meaning to stop and pick up farm fresh eggs from a house down the street. They always had a sign outside advertising what was available: lambs, eggs, or hay-- and right now they had fresh eggs to sell.

The sign listed a phone number but I decided to stop and knock on the door to see if anyone was at home. We pulled up in the long driveway as cows greeted us, lazily munching spring grass and sleeping with their calves curled up close by. An old border collie ran out to greet us and we parked next to the garage where we could gaze down at a flock of chickens roaming in a field outside a large red barn.

I opened a broken screen door slightly and knocked gently on the old red door before taking a step back. Almost immediately footsteps could be heard hastily coming near in a loud, determined stride. A middle-aged farmer appeared and gave me a hard once-over look. "Can I help you?" he nearly growled. I explained that I didn't have the phone number but wondered if I might be able to pick up some eggs, gesturing towards his sign. His expression didn't change. "I'm not usually home but I have a funeral to go to," he paused for a moment... "Go around to the garage." With that he shut the door.

I went back to where I'd parked and entered through an open door where he was already waiting. "It's a self-serve operation," he explained. "Eggs are in here in the fridge, prices are listed on the door, egg cartons go over there when you come back-- put the money in this bucket." He looked at me hard again. "We've had a lot of stealing going on around here so we don't leave a lot of change.... Oh, and DON'T come after dark 'cause I don't know what you're up to." I promised not to, wondering why anyone would come calling after dark at such a house anyway. Anyone who dared would likely meet the barrel of a shotgun.

I thanked the farmer, paying him for 2 dozen eggs-- a steal at only $1.75 per carton for a medium size order.

As we drove away, I shook my head at the unusual characters you meet in the South. I'm excited to find fresh eggs for sale that are close to home, but have to admit I'm also a little glad that next time I'll be serving myself.