There's an old country song that has a line that asks “Can you bake a cherry pie?” Well, can you? I can make an acceptable cherry pie but my Dad's Aunt Maggie made the ultimate cherry pie. At least that's what the old folks said.

Back in the day when the 19th century turned into the 20th century being indigent and on in years was a difficult position to be in. There were no nursing homes or assisted living facilities. Low cost senior housing was an unknown concept. So what did they do with someone with no income unable to care for themselves? The family took care of them. Each became an extended family for a while.

The extended family often included Mom and Dad, the kids, Aunt Maggie or Uncle Lou and maybe Grandma or Grandpa. I'm not talking about all of them being there at one time. Families took turns so the burden didn't fall on only one household. Women didn't work outside the home, so Mom was always there. The short-term family visitor could help around the house. Lord knows, there was enough to do back in the day. Monday was wash day. Tuesday's chore was the ironing. Mending was an everyday thing. There was something scheduled for every day of the week except Sunday. Sunday was a day of rest, a much needed day of rest.

Our turn came to take in Dad's Aunt Maggie, his mother's sister. They said she had a sweet disposition and was a fabulous cook. She could make the ultimate cherry pie, they said. Her pastry was the best, they said. It complemented her cherry pie filling. BUT there was one big problem and it infuriated Dad. The incident in question resulted in Aunt Maggie having a very short stay at our house. Dad quickly moved her on to the next family household.

What did she do to cause such a ruckus? Aunt Maggie made one, only one, cherry pie. If she had made two pies, her stay would have been longer. Dad loved cherry pie. He knew she was going to make one when he went to work that day on the farm. When he came home at evening time, Dad looked in vain for the cherry pie. There was no pie. Aunt Maggie had eaten the entire pie. Mother said that when it was cool enough, Aunt Maggie sat down at the table, fork in hand, and devoured the entire pie straight out of the pie pan. Dad was livid.

In later years if you wanted to get a rise out of Dad, just mention Aunt Maggie's cherry pie. Here is my version of Cherry Pie. If you make it, please, oh please, don't eat it all yourself at one sitting. Then you would be “the Aunt Maggie” of your family.

CHERRY PIE
1 cup sugar
2 cups plus 4 tablespoons plain flour
½ teaspoon cinnamon
½ teaspoon almond extract
No. 2 can cherries and juice
1 teaspoon salt
2/3 cup lard
4 tablespoons cold water
1 tablespoon butter

Mix sugar, 4 tablespoons plain flour, cinnamon, almond extract and cherries with juice together in saucepan over moderate heat. Cook until thickened, stirring constantly. Combine remaining flour, salt, lard and water as for pie crust. Pour warm, not hot, cherry filling into pastry lined pan. Dot with butter. Cover with top crust, crimping edges and cut vents. Bake at 450 F. for 10 minutes, then for 25 minutes at 350 F. or until nicely browned.
Note: You might want to double the cherry filling. That would make an Aunt Maggie style pie.