When I was a kid my grandfather would make a peach pie every Sunday. I would sit there and watch him while he peeled and sliced the peaches. He'd also roll out an extra piece of dough and fill it with brown sugar and cinnamon for my grandmother.
Years later, when I grew up, I asked my grandfather for his recipe. He couldn't remember it. I really can't blame him because it was never written down. As I sat as a child and watched, he sort of just threw everything together. Each Sunday we just ended up with this great peach pie. It was stored in my grand parent's kitchen cabinet too, on top of their plates. It wasn't refrigerated.
This summer we finally got peaches off of our peach tree. There weren't a ton because predators such as our dogs hunt for them on our tree. Oh, and the birds…but mostly the dogs. Our yard is littered with peach pits. The boys have been eating them, too.
Anyhow, the peaches were so good. So sweet. I was inspired to make a pie just like my grandfather did. So, we all worked on it. I followed several recipes. There was really no rhyme or reason to it. I feel that's fitting because no recipe was ever followed for Sunday pie.
The taste tester
Mixing it all up.
I'm really, really bad at dough. Any kind of dough, so Erik had to take over. Okay, I actually begged Erik to fix my disaster, and he did. He always takes care of everything.
Right before the pie goes into the oven. I'm totally winging this BTW.
Even Maddie is proud of it.
Overall, it was delicious. We did a great job on the filling. It tastes like my grandfather's. We need to work on the crust, though. Seeing how this is the first attempt at homemade pie from scratch, we're pretty happy with it.
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