There was a time during our annual family reunions when there was a rush among cousins, nieces, nephews and in-laws to get to the dessert table. There, among four-layer cakes, pound cakes and banana puddings, would be a half-dozen or more sweet potato pies. My Mom’s pies.

Everybody knew that if you didn’t get at least one slice when the desserts were first spread out, you might not get any at all. So the family stood patiently in line, waiting to pick up one of the pre-cut pieces. We had learned from experience that if there was no portion control, some people would slice pieces nearly the size of a whole pie.

My Mom’s sweet potato pies are delicious, delightful and delectable (I enjoy those three words and like to use them when describing really good food.) They’re not fancy. No nut toppings or marshmallows. Just flavorful and creamy and melt-in-your mouth good. My sisters and I grew up on them. They’re legendary in our extended family.

My mother loves to bake them.  As kids, she’d cook a couple every Sunday for dinner. They would often be a part of a picnic when our parents took us for a day trip to the beach or on other outings. As we left for college and to pursue our lives, there would always be pies waiting on the table when we walked in the door of our family home for a  visit.

Then came the grandkids. They would get a pie for birthdays, a whole pie that they didn’t have to share. My Mom would make a pie if they made a special request or just because. She cooked some for the dinner after my daughter’s christening. And just as my daughter learned at an early age that grandma wanted her to respond with a  ”yes mam” when asked to do something, she also understood the specialness of the sweet potato pies.

Mom says she learned the recipe for the pies from my father’s mother. After they got married, they moved in for a while with my father’s five brothers, one sister and his mother (her husband died at an early age) and that’s where she honed her technique.  

My Mom pies are her special gifts, her trademark way of saying I love you and I celebrate you. She isn’t able to make as many pies these days, but we still enjoy them at Thanksgiving and Christmas. My sisters and I all know the recipe but when we cook sweet potato pies they just don’t taste as good as the ones prepared by our Mom. When our family is together this weekend for Mother’s Day, we’ll be thinking about those pies, and loving up on our Mom.

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