Picture of Pecan Pie
When Christmas rolls around on, my mother's family gathers at the farmstead home of my Grandfather.  It was here that I first roasted a turkey (brined), that I learned to start a fireplace blaze, that I shot a gun for the first time, that I would lock my little sister in an outhouse, and that I first tasted Pecan Pie.

My Grandmother made Pecan Pie for Christmas.  If a special occasion came around, she would make it then as well.  Pecan Pie was my Grandmother's opus - that and the time she dead-eyed a snake with a .22 from the back porch.  She passed a couple of years ago.  Her pie, remembered fondly by everyone in the family.  But no matter what, no matter who made the pie - it was Grandma's recipe.  It was never "Grandma's" pie.

A couple +one years ago I met my wife (again, long story).  It was the second of two Christmases Grandma spent in the nursing home - and there had been no pie that year.  The first year with my wife (before she was my wife), she offered to make the pies.  Pecan Pies.  She didn't think anything of it at the time - why would she?  She didn't know the importance the pie played in the Holiday - the sheer power it had in my family.  Hints poked out, though, as family would end phone conversations with "I hear you're making the pies this year."

My wife came through, though.  My Grandmother's Pecan Pie will always have a special place for me - but my wife's... oh, my wife's Pecan Pie.  This is the new pie, the pie everyone asks for.  It has a long history in her family and now that we are together it is our pie.  We don't hold much with secrets, and I don't hold much with solemnity.  Like my other Instructables, this will be a light-hearted affair.  But I wanted to take the time to say that this pie is something my wife has given me to keep my Grandmother's memory alive.  That's a wonderful gift, you know?