The Pie Contest
There are two ways to describe community events.
Sometimes its best to simply relay the facts. An annual event like a church pie contest can be reduced to a description like this: “Mrs. Dunkirk won best tasting, and Mrs. Yedler won best looking.”
Yet, this kind of depiction utterly fails to express the depths of community and flavors of personality that an annual church pie contest delivers to the participants.
Yes, Mrs. Dunkirk won for best tasting with her peanut-butter pie — but in that simple statement, we do not see her furrowed brow as she watches the judges slowly rolling her pie over their tongues. She has won the title “Best Tasting” for the last three years, and she certainly doesn’t want to break her winning streak.
And then, we don’t get to gaze at the other women watching the judges tasting one bite of each pie at a time.
Mrs. Appleton has entered her blueberry pie, with blueberries from her own bushes, and she doesn’t understand how on earth a peanut-butter pie could ever be better than a fresh berry pie.
And of course, the children are impatient for the pie contest to be over because this is the only time in the year that they have such a fine collection of delectable pies to choose from. Even so, this morning each child quietly watched his or her mother make this pie — or that one over there — and each child believes his or her mother really ought to be the winner.
The husbands stand amongst themselves casually talking about their work and catching up on events, but you can see them intermittently casting their eyes over to the judges' faces, looking for clues as to who might be the winner. They had a part in the pies too, for last evening, the dinner conversation was about which kind of pie should be made, where to get the ingredients, and “please dear, can you watch Annie and Joe so I can be sure to get the crust right?”
And then, what about the winner of “Best Looking?” The shorter description of events doesn’t tell us that young Sarah Goldwin has taken up cooking lessons with her widowed neighbor, Mrs. Holsten. Their latest effort is that cherry pie on the left, with the exquisitely woven lattice-work upper crust. Sarah lost her mother last year, and now the two have found companionship, the old sharing with the young.
Sarah and Mrs. Holsten stand quietly together, willing the judges to cast their eyes upon that crust. And though the judges admire the lattice-work, in the end, they decide that the pumpkin pie that Mrs. Yedler entered is the best looking because she braided the outer crust, and placed hand-cut crust leaves over the top of the pumpkin filling. Really, they say, her pie seems to capture the crisp feeling of autumn.
And once the pie contest winners have been announced, did you ever hear such a shriek of children or the clatter of plates and serving spoons? The line is long as the women serve up slice after slice after slice of pie. There are fruit pies, pudding pies, modern and old-fashioned pies, and everyone is happy because who doesn’t like pie? Once the last person in line has his pie, the room grows quiet because everyone settles down to enjoy the flavors.
Later in the kitchen, there is a flurry to get the dishes washed and put the kitchen back in order. One by one, all of the women who did not win the pie contest make their way over to Mrs. Dunkirk and Mrs. Yedler to congratulate them. It is easy to tell that both ladies are happy with the results, and they freely give out hugs to the other contestants whose pies were “so lovely!”
And then by four o’clock, it is time for everyone to go on back to their homes for a late Sunday afternoon nap. Each is content with a full belly, and the knowledge that this autumn ritual that will come around again, next year.
