Macadamia Nut Pie

July in Alabama. The heat is the heat. The work continues. Tuesday feeding ran clean. Sister Beulah was there at three. The chicken was dredged by four. We served from six until eight. Sister Beulah shooed me out at nine-thirty.

Calvin preached Sunday on the prodigal son. The church said amen. I talked to Mama at the stove. I told her the recipe was right. I told her the kitchen was holding. The cast iron skillet hummed.

Tomato sandwiches for lunch — heirlooms from the farmer's market, white bread, mayonnaise, salt. The Alabama summer lunch, baby.

Bernice was here, baby. In the smell of the chicken. In the hum at the stove.

A young woman from the new members class came to me Sunday. She was nervous. She said, Mother Simms, my husband and I are expecting our first and I do not know how to cook. I said, baby, come to the Saturday class. She said, I'm coming. The chain extends.

I had a small cry Wednesday morning at the kitchen window. No reason in particular. The grief comes when it comes. I made coffee. I went on. That is how this works.

I drove to the grocery Saturday morning. Greens, three pounds. Onions, two big ones. Buttermilk, half gallon. Cornmeal, the good kind. Salt, because I always run out of salt.

I made coffee at five Tuesday morning. Strong, with cream, no sugar (the diabetes). I stood at the kitchen window. The yard was still in dark. The day ahead was the day ahead. I went into it.

Mr. Henderson across the street brought me a bag of pecans Friday from his tree. I made a pecan pie with them. I took half of it back to him. He said, Loretta, this is wrong, you took my pecans and gave me back a pie. I said, that is exactly right. That is how it works.

Bernice's Table Tuesday. The team was sharp. The food held. The room held.

The garden in the side yard, sugar. The tomatoes are coming on. The okra is up. The collards are getting big. I will be canning by August. I always say I am not going to can. I always end up canning.

The kitchen smelled like garlic and onion all afternoon Wednesday. Calvin came home from his Bible study and stood in the doorway and said, Loretta, what are we eating. I said, baby, you will see. He said, that is a yes from me. He has been saying that for fifty years.

Sister Beulah came by Tuesday afternoon to drop off the bulletins. She stayed for coffee. We talked about the church, about her grandbaby, about the heat. The visit was the visit.

I read for an hour Sunday night before bed. The Bible, then a book Doris sent me about the civil rights movement in Birmingham. The book made me think about Bernice in the church kitchen during the bombings.

A new young wife joined the Saturday cooking class. Twenty-two years old. She does not know how to make rice. I will teach her. The chain extends.

Sunday after service Calvin and I drove past the new sanctuary site. The choir loft windows were going in. We sat in the car and looked. He did not speak. I did not speak. The watching was the prayer.

Calvin Jr. called Tuesday night. He was tired. He had been at work twelve hours. I told him, baby, eat something. He said, Mama, I will. I said, what did you eat last. He said, a granola bar. I said, baby, that is not eating. He laughed.

Mr. Henderson brought me those pecans on a Friday, and by Saturday morning a pie was already out of the oven and half of it was back on his porch — that’s just how it works, baby. I have been making nut pies my whole life, and what I reach for when the spirit moves me is something close to this macadamia nut pie: buttery, rich, and honest, the kind of thing you can make from what’s in the kitchen without a lot of fuss. This week called for pie. It almost always does.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 55 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 10 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 unbaked 9-inch pie shell
3 large eggs
1 cup light corn syrup
3/4 cup granulated sugar
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 cups whole macadamia nuts, roughly chopped

Instructions

Preheat the oven. Heat your oven to 350°F. Set the unbaked pie shell in a 9-inch pie dish and crimp the edges. Place it in the refrigerator to keep it cold while you prepare the filling.
Mix the filling. In a large bowl, whisk together the eggs, corn syrup, sugar, melted butter, vanilla extract, and salt until smooth and fully combined.
Add the nuts. Stir the macadamia nuts into the filling mixture, distributing them evenly.
Fill the shell. Pour the filling into the chilled pie shell, spreading the nuts out so they cover the surface evenly.
Bake. Place the pie on the center rack and bake for 50 to 55 minutes, until the filling is set at the edges and has only a slight jiggle at the very center. If the crust begins to brown too quickly, cover the edges loosely with foil.
Cool completely. Remove the pie from the oven and let it cool on a wire rack for at least 2 hours before slicing. The filling will firm up fully as it cools.
Serve. Slice and serve at room temperature, plain or with a little whipped cream. This pie holds well at room temperature for up to two days, covered.

Nutrition (per serving)

Macadamia Nut Pie — The Week Mr. Henderson Brought Pecans and Loretta Brought It All Back