Skip to main content

Reverend Roffey's Raisin Pie

By Belinda

My oh my, another pie--Reverend Roffey’s raisin.

It was after I conquered the making of raisin pie and acquired a dangerous taste for the flaky, sweet concoction that Brenda, who had commissioned it in the first place, told me that Reverend Roffey's dream raisin pie was made with sour cream and raisins (Reverend Roffey is the chaplain at the college where she works.)

Since it had to be the pie he longed for, I needed to find a recipe for this fabulous pie. On a hunch I plucked a Mennonite cookbook off my shelf and searched the pie section, profusely populated with all sorts of pies. "Surely I will find it here," I thought, and I was right!

On Saturday I made several pastry shells as well as apple pies (for Jamie, Sam and Caliene, a friend from work) and tonight was the night to actually venture into the uncharted complexities of a pie new to me.

I simmered the raisins to plump and juicy perfection, drained them, measured back the right amount of liquid; added brown sugar and began to heat it all back up. The next thing was to add cornstarch and stir in beaten eggs. I was madly stirring when the phone rang. It was Pete.

I felt a little neglectful of Pete when focusing on mothers and daughters alone in my Mother's Day post. He is wise, a lover of Susan his wife and his family, above all else next to God. He is brilliant in figuring out how things should work logically and systematically and he loves to communicate ideas and thoughts. One day I hope he starts writing down what he knows and thinks in books, because what he tells me in his long conversations is always worth hearing.

But now I stood with a phone to my ear with one hand, stirring a rapidly thickening mass of raisins, eggs, sugar, cornstarch and water--a tripled recipe because I don't know how to ever make one of anything. All that was required of me in the conversation was the occasional sound to prove that I was there. I truly was gripped with interest, but also with an awareness of the importance of not burning the raisins or ending up with bits of poached egg in the mixture.

Any such bits were fished out (next time I will add the cornstarch and beaten eggs before I start heating the mixture.) I transferred the stiff concoction into a large bowl and stirred it as I talked in order to cool it down. When it was cool, I folded in sour cream and cool whip and then poured it all into the waiting pie shells. By that time Pete had gone back to putting a son to bed.

Reverend Roffey's pie is in Brenda's fridge, ready for work in the morning. And we have two to be shared with our cell group tomorrow night. I wish I could put out a little plate with this post with  slices for readers to sample--but perhaps if you try hard you can imagine it!

Comments

Susan said…
How did the Rev. like his pie? My piece is but a memory, but a very enjoyable one!
Belinda said…
I believe it went home with him for weekend company! And Brenda called me today with two more pie orders--a rhubarb and an apple. :)

Popular posts from this blog

Just Joy!

Our family has a standing date for Sunday dinner on the first Sunday of every month. Not that we don't see each other at any other time, but we all know that particular Sunday is pretty much for sure--and I look forward to it so much--the front door bursting open and our house being filled once more with the voices and vibrancy of six grandchildren and their parents. 

This week Spero, Brenda's new Australian Shepherd puppy came too, and met his extended family, leaving Molson at home to have a rest! He was duly adored by all of us.


He came with a dazzling array of toys and is proving a fast learner, already sitting on command and responding to Tori's training. I was so impressed at her technique of quickly rewarding a turnaround from any slight naughtiness with praise for "good sitting," or "good" any other desirable behaviour! 

Tippy had her hair cut stunningly and bravely short the day before; making a statement about who she is as a unique individual, o…

The Secret Adventures of Susan's Scottish Scarf

By Belinda (with a lot of help from Susan :))
I was saying goodnight to her at the front door this week when she told me. There was apparently more to the scarf around her neck than I knew. 
The scarf had been a gift from me for Susan's birthday on Tuesday December 18th. It had been her 60th; and that day I had treated her to lunch to celebrate. 
We met at a tiny restaurant, Port Soiree, in Schomberg,near her office. It was a restaurant neither of us had been to before and it turned out to be a gem, with artsy ambiance, amazing food, wonderful service and modest pricing. In other words, it was perfect!