A Slice of Nostalgia
“A Slice Of Nostalgia: Pies, Love And The Simplicity Of Life In The 70s”
By Patricia Hill
Pies were more than just dessert in our home—they were a symbol of love, tradition, and the simplicity of life as it once was. Growing up in the 70s, when the world moved a little slower, and Sundays were sacred, pies became the hallmark of a loving home. In a time before phones beeped and chimed incessantly, we had the luxury of long, uninterrupted conversations, and the joy of winding down the week with a comforting roast and pie.
Spring would bloom with the arrival of Easter, and with it came the sunny lemon meringue pie. My grandmother would painstakingly craft her meringue, her secret ingredient being farmers’ eggs—not the grocery store variety. Her crust, always tender and delicious, was a topic of ongoing admiration. My grandfather knew just how to compliment her efforts, making sure everyone at the table knew the pie was a masterpiece. These meals, shared with friends and extended family, became cherished memories, woven together by the threads of love and tradition.
As summer approached, it was time for my personal favorite: strawberry rhubarb pie. The tartness of the rhubarb, balanced by the sweetness of the berries and topped with a dollop of whipped cream, was pure bliss. But summer wasn’t done with us yet—bumbleberry pie with its crumbly top, cherry pie with its intricate lattice, and the juicy peach pie that signaled the end of summer and the start of school all made their appearances. The art of making a peach pie, with its perfectly blanched peaches and even slices, was a skill honed over generations, one I still marvel at today.
Fall would roll in with trips to the apple orchard, and soon the house would be filled with the comforting aroma of apple pie. There’s something magical about curling up with a good book, the scent of baking pie wafting from the kitchen. It’s a memory that evokes a sense of warmth and nostalgia—a reminder of a quieter, more deliberate time. Pie-making was more than just a culinary task; it was a ritual that demanded patience, practice, and a deep appreciation for the craft.
As the holidays drew near, our table overflowed with pumpkin, pecan, and mincemeat pies, each one a testament to the season’s joy. And let’s not forget the savory pies—meat pies, or as many call them, Tourtière, and the comforting turkey pot pie, perfect after a day of skiing. Each pie was a labor of love, a creation that brought us together, celebrated the season, and made every gathering special.
Year after year, the pies remained a constant, though new recipes occasionally made their way into the rotation—blueberry pie with cream cheese on the bottom, sugar pie, and more. Each one added a new layer of flavor to our family’s story, but the essence remained the same: pies made with love, meant to be shared and savored with those who mattered most.
At Lucy’s, the pies have that special, homemade touch that feels like something from your own childhood. Each bite is filled with warmth and care, making every slice perfect for celebrating life’s little joys and sharing with the people you love.
So, were you lucky enough to grow up in a family of pie makers? We’d love to hear your favorite pie memories and, of course, your favorite pie!
