Mr. Spag, as he was fondly called, was my English teacher all through high school. He introduced me to the written word, and to how words can change people and, ultimately, the way we choose to live. He taught me to examine, imagine, create, articulate, work hard, be passionate, believe, and dream. He inspired me, and he believed in me.
Truly, many people affect how we create our own lives, and make no mistake: We do create our own lives. However, sometimes certain people carve their initials into our souls and enable us to see our potential, our gifts, and our own utopia. Mr. Spag did this for me. He told me I was smart and that if I worked hard I could accomplish much. He told me I had gifts. He told me to dream. He believed in me. I was astounded that a man of his merit thought all of this of me, little Linda McComb. In retrospect, I see that I did exactly what he taught me to: I dreamed, I created, I used my passion and gifts, and I worked hard, very hard, to create the life I want and the world I want to live in, to share with my family and friends and now my customers.
If I had not been blessed to have him as my teacher all those years ago, I would not be everything I am today, nor everything I will be tomorrow.
Recommended: Flaky Classic Piecrust, frozen (page 1)
Filling
5 cups sliced sweet Vidalia onions
2 teaspoons brown sugar
1 tablespoon white wine
3 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoon finely cut fresh tarragon
1 teaspoon garlic salt
1/8 teaspoon pepper
1½ cups heavy cream
½ cup milk
2 eggs
1 tablespoon flour
1½ cups grated gruyère or swiss cheese
This pie was inspired by an onion pie that is famous in Strasbourg, France, a city we learned about in Mr. Spag’s class.
Years ago, while tucking my sweet girls into bed, they shared that one of their favorite words was Mommy. I have never felt more accomplished.
I remember sitting on my own mother’s lap as a child, pushing her face toward mine so I could stare at her loving smile as she read to me. That memory still warms my heart like no other.
Mothers offer our hearts an unconditional love and sanctuary that can never be duplicated. I often think of the centuries of soldiers dying on battlefields, calling out for their dear mothers for a measure of peace and love in their last breaths. For at the end of the day, as beaten and melancholy as we may be, our hearts are lightened knowing that at the very least, our mothers still love and believe in us.
Yes, mothers are human beings, and flawed like all people. But I do believe it is a good thing to put mothers on a well-deserved pedestal for their steadfast, deep devotion to their children. My mother made pie, as so many mothers before us have done, to warm our souls, comfort our bodies, and feel her love!
“All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.”
—Abraham Lincoln
Recommended: Sweetie-licious Crumb Topping (page 6)
Filling
1 (29-ounce) can sliced peaches, well drained
½ cup brown sugar
3 tablespoons flour
Dash of salt
½ teaspoon cinnamon
¼ teaspoon almond extract
¼ teaspoon vanilla extract
¼ cup heavy cream
Need a pie in a hurry? This crustless pie recipe is so easy, making it perfect for potlucks, Sunday dinners, and game days!