It is not as hard as you would think to transport a pie on a cross-country flight but it is also not that easy.
If possible, check your luggage so that all you have to worry about is carrying your pie. There are some people out there who eschew checked bags—and I am often one of them. But believe me, no one needs to be wheeling a bag to the very last gate in the farthest away Southwest terminal while also transporting a pie.
I learned this in August 2015, the first time I carried a bourbon and chocolate pecan pie on a plane. “What’s in the box?” flight attendants asked me as I boarded. Unsure whether it was curiosity or a security concern, I answered honestly and openly. “It’s a pie!”
Then I elaborated: It’s a bourbon and chocolate pecan pie, made for my father’s 70th birthday. It’s his favorite pie, I told the flight attendants, and it was all that he asked for from me on his birthday. How could I say no?
“You are such a good daughter,” they all cooed. All of them! Few of us are immune to praise—even my dog brightens up when I say “aww, such a good girl!” Maybe a treat is coming!
But as challenging as it is to keep a pie horizontal while making a connecting flight, I’m not sure it makes me a good daughter. I’m not certain I’m actually that good of a daughter. What does it mean to be a good daughter anyway? In a Jane Austen novel, I’d be the impatient, ill-tempered daughter with strong opinions who married late. What does it mean to be “good?” And who is measuring all that goodness? With what sort of yardstick? In a wicked mood, I’d say that being a “good daughter” probably means upholding roles imposed upon women by patriarchy. How often do “good sons” travel cross country with pie, after all? I could survey the flight attendants but I’m guessing it’s not nearly as often as the good daughters do.
If anything made me a good daughter when I first carried that pie across the country seven years ago, it was that I agreed to bake a bourbon and chocolate pecan pie out of season, at the height of the August heat. I did it (and still sometimes do it) because my father asks me to—even though I believe that this rich, chocolatey, boozy and nutty pie is meant for the darkest days of fall and winter.
I baked it again on Monday for consumption on Thursday, and today I am carrying it across the country on a plane. This time, my father is traveling with us. None of the flight attendants have asked me about the pie, which is snug inside a cardboard box tucked into an otherwise unremarkable tote bag stashed under the seat in front of me. We’re on the way to see my sister, the true good daughter.
Here’s a link to the bourbon and chocolate pecan pie recipe I’ve been making for Thanksgiving since 2011. If you want to bake this pie, do be forewarned that the crust is finicky. (It really shouldn’t be baked in the northern hemisphere in August.) Reach out if you want specific tips. It is 100% worth the effort. People will ask you to transport it vast distances.
And if you have a favorite pie recipe or memory, perhaps share it in the comments? I hope there’s plenty of pie in your lives this week!
Love,
Erika
P.S. No one needs my permission, but good daughters and sons are allowed to buy pies, too. I still dream of the guava pie from Knaus Berry Farm in Homestead, Fla.
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Bookplates! Just a reminder that if you pre-ordered Windfall and want to give it as a gift this holiday season, I can send you a signed bookplate. All you have to do is fill out this form. (Or reach out to me directly at erika@erikabolstad.com) It’s something tangible you’ll be able to give as a gift this December before the book is released on Jan. 17—or keep for yourself, of course. I’m happy to customize the message. (You can see the bookplate design at the link.)