Page 140 - United States of Pie

he means. So much about the foods we love is tied to our
recollections of eating them year after year. And in a vacation spot
like Beulah, a place where grandparents bring their grandchildren

each summer to swim in Crystal Lake, a slice of cherry pie from the
Cherry Hut is about creating those memories.
The recipe for this pie hasn’t changed much since Dorothy Kraker
first began making it in 1922. It’s a comparatively small pie at 8
inches in diameter, but each pie is cut into just four healthy pieces for
serving. The crust is a lard crust, which makes it flaky and tender,
and the filling—well, it’s just cherries. This pie could be an
advertisement for the Michigan Sour Cherry Board. When you sit

down in front of a slice of the Cherry Hut’s pie, you must put all other
cherry pies, with their gloppy shellacked fillings, out of your mind. I
do just that as I bring my fork down on my slice. Cherries tumble out
and pool on the plate. The pie just holds together. And its flavor is
pure, sweet, overflowing with fruitiness with just the right amount of

tang. This is the sort of sour cherry pie that I’m dying to make.
Although the pie comes from a well-established family restaurant, it
has the homemade appeal of tradition.
Andy and I get to talking cherries. Or rather, I begin complaining
about my difficulty making the perfect filling and Andy calmly gives
me an education. Andy is a measured man, businesslike and
composed; an education from him is a confidence-building exercise.

As I regale him with stories of my filling nightmares, finally arriving at
the unsatisfying and thus temporary tapioca solution, he nods
solemnly. And then he begins to school me in the art of making a
Cherry Hut pie.