I got my first taste of buttermilk pie at my grandparent's church when I was thirteen years old. It was at the fifth Sunday dinner in July. Since four women made a buttermilk pie, I decided to try a piece of each. My love affair with the dessert has never ended.
About twenty years ago, I found a recipe for the pie, but over the years I made it my own, changing it to suit my memory of that summer day. I'm sure my pie doesn't compare to those ladies' at Elwood Baptist Church. I hope they will forgive me for that because each time I bake one, it is a tribute to them.
This week I baked a mess of pies and yesterday Jerry delivered a few around the neighborhood. And since I wish I could give each of you a piece, but can't, I'll share my recipe instead. I'm not an expert baker, but I've been told it's a pretty good pie. It has my friend Charlotte's stamp of approval. (That's a worth a lot, I hear.)
Here's the recipe. It's my holiday gift to you. (To enlarge, please double-click)
"Isn't that Kimberly's Buttermilk Pie?"
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