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Grapefruit Pie — The Other Dish on the Table When Two Mothers Meet

Three weeks until Jisoo. I have been sleeping poorly — not from worry but from anticipation, the kind of wakefulness that comes before something enormous, the way you don't sleep the night before a wedding or a birth or a reunion. This is all three: a reunion (Jisoo in my city for the first time), a birth (my kitchen becoming real, becoming Jisoo-approved, becoming complete), and a wedding (Karen and Jisoo meeting, two mothers joining, two families becoming one in a living room in Bellevue over pie and doenjang jjigae).

Karen is preparing too. She called on Tuesday and said, "I'm going to make my apple pie for Jisoo. And my pot roast. And my green bean casserole." I said, "Mom. That's a lot of food." She said, "I want Jisoo to know what we eat. I want her to know the food I fed you." The intention behind Karen's cooking — the desire to show Jisoo the American side of Stephanie's childhood, the side that Karen gave, the side that was imperfect and real and made with love — brought me to tears. Karen is going to cook American food for Jisoo the way Jisoo cooked Korean food for me. The exchange is the point. The exchange is the conversation. The food is the language two mothers share when they do not share a language.

David has built something for the visit: a small wooden step stool for Jisoo to use in the kitchen, engraved with "Jisoo" in Hangul on the side. He taught himself to write Hangul for this project. He watched YouTube tutorials. He practiced on scrap wood. He carved "지수" into the side of a step stool in his garage in Bellevue, and the carving is imperfect but recognizable, and the recognition is David saying, in the only language he truly speaks — the language of building things — welcome to our family. Welcome. You have always been welcome. We just didn't know how to say it until now.

The recipe this week is my practice doenjang jjigae — the one I want to make side-by-side with Jisoo in my kitchen. I have been making this stew for seven years. I have made it hundreds of times. I am still not sure it is correct. I will know when Jisoo tastes it. She will taste it and she will tell me — honestly, directly, in the way Korean mothers tell you — whether it is correct. She will correct me. The correction will be the gift. The correction will be the teaching I waited thirty-one years for: my mother, in my kitchen, tasting my food, telling me what to fix. The fixing is the love.

The first paragraph I wrote mentions pie by name — it is right there, a small word in a large sentence, almost accidental: over pie and doenjang jjigae. Karen is making her apple pie, and that one belongs to her. This grapefruit pie is mine: bright and a little sharp, not quite sweet, the kind of thing you make when you need to feel awake and ready, which is exactly how I have been feeling for three weeks running. It will sit on the counter next to the stew, and the two of them together will say something I cannot yet say in words.

Grapefruit Pie

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 45 min | Total Time: 1 hr 5 min (plus 2 hrs cooling) | Servings: 8

Ingredients

  • 1 9-inch pre-baked pie crust (store-bought or homemade), cooled
  • 3 large eggs
  • 1 cup granulated sugar
  • 1/4 cup cornstarch
  • 1 1/2 cups fresh-squeezed grapefruit juice (from about 2 large grapefruits)
  • 1 tablespoon fresh grapefruit zest
  • 3 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
  • 1/4 teaspoon fine salt
  • 1 cup heavy whipping cream, chilled
  • 2 tablespoons powdered sugar
  • Thin grapefruit slices or additional zest, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

  1. Prepare the curd base. In a medium saucepan off the heat, whisk together the granulated sugar and cornstarch until combined. Add the eggs one at a time, whisking well after each addition until the mixture is smooth and pale.
  2. Add grapefruit. Whisk in the grapefruit juice, grapefruit zest, and salt. The mixture will look thin — that’s normal.
  3. Cook the filling. Place the saucepan over medium heat and cook, stirring constantly with a heatproof spatula or wooden spoon, until the mixture thickens and begins to bubble, about 10–12 minutes. Once it bubbles, continue stirring and cooking for 1 minute more.
  4. Finish with butter. Remove from heat. Add the butter pieces and stir until fully melted and incorporated. The filling should be glossy and thick enough to coat the back of a spoon.
  5. Fill the crust. Pour the warm filling into the cooled pre-baked pie crust and smooth the top with a spatula. Press a sheet of plastic wrap directly onto the surface of the filling to prevent a skin from forming.
  6. Chill. Refrigerate for at least 2 hours, or until the filling is fully set and cold.
  7. Make the whipped cream. When ready to serve, beat the chilled heavy cream and powdered sugar together with a hand mixer or stand mixer on medium-high speed until soft peaks form, about 2–3 minutes.
  8. Top and serve. Remove the plastic wrap. Spread or dollop the whipped cream over the chilled pie. Garnish with thin grapefruit slices or a pinch of fresh zest if desired. Slice and serve cold.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 310 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 15g | Carbs: 41g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 145mg

Stephanie Park
About the cook who shared this
Stephanie Park
Week 470 of Stephanie’s 30-year story · Seattle, Washington
Stephanie is a software engineer in Seattle, a new mom, and a Korean-American adoptee who spent twenty-five years not knowing where she came from. She was adopted as an infant by a white family in Bellevue who loved her completely and never cooked Korean food. At twenty-eight, she found her birth mother in Busan — and then she found herself in a kitchen, crying over her first homemade kimchi jjigae, because some things your body remembers even when your mind doesn't.

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