Worth It
This is my second foray into fan fiction and my first Sookieverse "weekly one shot challenge". I won't say this is sappy – this story takes place in Louisiana, not Vermont, and it's about pecans, not syrup, so maybe I'll call it nutty. Sentimental would probably be a better word. Regardless, I'm just a pecan and SVM fan, not the owner. Pecans belong to their landowners and the SVM universe belongs to Ms. Harris.
There's something about labor day weekend – as much as I love all the extra tips I get at the bar, I always got a craving. I had gone for substitutions the past few years, but I knew I needed the real deal this year.
I was bone tired. I sighed as I drove back from Jason's house. It's funny – I have no problem thinking of that house as his instead of my childhood home or as my parents' but I always think of my house as Gran's.
This summer's weather yielded crazy amounts of pecans – lots of people were giving them away. There are a few on my land, but they were damaged in a late spring storm, so I didn't have the yield that most did. Last Tuesday, at Merlotte's, Jason had said he was about to put the heavy duty mulching blade on his mower* and just grind 'em all up. I scolded him and made him promise to at least wait until after my next day off – today. I bought a pecan pick-up tool at the hardware store and rolled up to his house at seven fifteen – even though I'd worked a double shift, getting off at two forty-five am.
As they say, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. The pecan pick-up looked like an upside-down bent over slinky only lower gauge wire and with a handle sticking out of the U. About ten minutes into my pecan collection, I decided that a real slinky would probably be more effective and opted for the old-standby – i.e. scrapping the pecans together with my fingers on my hands and knees then sitting on my behind and putting them in my bucket. So I sat in my self induced hell for most of the day. I probably had enough after an hour – more than enough after two, but the neighbors hollered from the front porch saying I was welcome to theirs as well. I didn't want to be rude, so I spent another hours collecting them across the property line. Jason woke up to his jangling alarm clock and saw me. After he'd had a shower and breakfast, he took pity on my, giving me some empty deer feed bags to put my plunder in – they'd keep better that way. By eleven o'clock, long after by brother had left for work and about the time I should have woken up; I sat down in my car and drove home.
A few days later, the rain poured down and my plans for the day were a wash. So I dragged out those feed bags and started shelling. It might add to my Crazy Sookie Persona to admit this, but I always liked shelling pecans. It takes just enough concentration to block out all the stress of everything else. So I sat on my porch, with the barrel sheller, a hook tool from a nutcracker set, a flathead eyeglass screwdriver that was too big for anything I'd ever tried it for, and a manicure tool that I didn't know the use for, and pulled the meat from all those nuts. The other good part about shelling pecans is eating the rejects. While the grass might not always be greener on the other side of the fence, I'm convinced the pecans are sweeter. So over the course of that rainy late afternoon and evening, I shelled, picked, and munched pecans until the manicure I'd gotten with Tara a few days ago on our Ladies Nice Things** outing was thoroughly ruined.
I was up again at a no-one-has-any-business-being up o'clock, but when I'm up, I'm up. I sliced up the butter into small cubes – putting it into the freezer door to chill with a large mixing bowl and my rolling pin while I whisked up the flour salt and baking soda. I pulled most of the butter out of the freezer to mix up with the dry ingredients. As I rubbed the mix between my fingers I prayed my prayers and thought my happy thoughts until I had it all in a course meal.
I grabbed a Zip-Loc and dumped that into it with the rest of the butter. I zipped it mostly closed and pushed the air out. Then I used the rolling pin to flatten the butter into flakes. I tossed it back into the freezer then cleaned up the rest of the mess.
After I brewed and drank a nice hot cup of coffee, I grabbed the bag and the heavy bowl from the freezer. I put the whole mix in the bowl, scrapping off any stray pieces from the plastic. I dug around in my random things cupboard until I found my spray bottle. I poured the chilled water and cider vinegar in and shook it up. Spraying slowly, I tossed the mix then dumped it back into the Zip-Loc – kneading it until it was one stretchy piece of dough. I took out the lump and wrapped it in plastic, after placing it on the freezer shelf, I went off to shower.
I went straight to the oven, turning it on to 360°. I microwaved a couple tablespoons of butter and set it aside. I dusted my butcher block then rolled out my dough. I may be psychic - I had the foresight to throw it into the fridge the night before last after an arduous double shift – then again, Thanksgiving is only a few days away. I carefully dropped it into the pan and shaped the edges. I got out my favorite mixing bowl and whisked the eggs, followed by the honey, maple syrup, vanilla, and salt. Grabbing the cooled butter, I stirred it in with the pecan halves. I dumped the mix into my pie crust – smoothing it out and placing it in the oven for half an hour. I ran to the bath to grab my shower before I took it out and left it to cool on the windowsill.
The day after thanksgiving, I sat on my porch with a slice of my pie and another cup of coffee. Jason swore up and down that it was the same as Gran's, but I didn't think so. Probably because she prayed her prayers and thought her happy thoughts for me. I remembered her teaching me the recipe all those years ago. "I never said it would be easy, I said it would be worth the wait." I sure hope so.
*Just as a side note – I don't know if they make a heavy duty mulching blade that can deal with pecans – don't try without referring to your local service rep and owner's manual.
**I'm not sure which one, but I got the idea for Ladies Nice Things from a Marian Keyes novel. As much as I love SVM, hers are even better vacation/chill out books.
To get actual measurements for the pie crust, go to epicurious dot com and search for basic flaky pie crust.
Filling recipe from wholefoodsmarket dot com – search under the recipe tab – click desert and type in old fashioned pecan pie
I know it's not crazy-sexy-cool but I like it. If you have an opinion, I'd love to hear from you.