I made my first "seasonal" pie yesterday -- pumpkin. I have to admit it tastes really good. My father didn't particularly like pumpkin pie. He liked french apple. But mom always made a pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving and another one for Christmas. Mom made crust using the cold butter, flour, and cold water method. Too much trouble for me. But, I have to admit I recall that her pie crusts were light and flaky.
When the "packaged" pie crusts came out (Mrs. Smith's had a pie crust shell) she tried them, but dad still preferred her light and flaky crust rather than Mrs. Smith's thick and chewy crust. He didn't object, however, to the store prepared graham cracker pie crusts, but I think mom still always made her own.
Don't get the idea that mom baked a lot of pies. She didn't. Getting a piece of pie in our house was a real treat. And I think that's one reason why we liked the holidays so much -- we got pies. Aunt Annie always brought a pie with her when she came to visit on Thanksgiving and Christmas. And I recall that we always had a lemon meringue pie, but I don't recall who made it, that is, whether it was my mother or Aunt Annie.
So, it's time for me to start peeling apples for my annual apple pie (that's really a stretch, I usually make more than one apple pie a year, but not many more than 2). And this afternoon the smell of a freshly baked apple pie will permeate my habitat. Can't wait.