A HARTE APPETITE: ULTIMATE COMFORT FOOD: PIE COULD BE QUINTESSENTIAL AMERICAN DESSERT

A mountain of meringue tops a slice of coconut cream pie at Joey's Restaurant.

Rose Levy Beranbaum, in her best-selling book, "The Pie and Pastry Bible," says, "There are two kinds of people: cake people and pie people." Though I have never been known to turn down a piece of chocolate layer cake, I know which category I belong in. I'm a pie person.

I'll eat pie anytime of day, including breakfast (a common practice in Colonial times), and at one local restaurant they know my proclivity for pie so well they bring me a slice along with the menu the moment I sit down. (When it comes to pie I have always followed the sage advice, "Life is uncertain, eat dessert first.")

So for a pie lover like me, serving as a judge at the National Pie Championship, as I did recently, was akin to being appointed to the Supreme Court for a lawyer or being elected to the College of Cardinals for a priest.

The National Pie Championship was sponsored by The American Pie Council, an organization which says it is "dedicated to preserving America's love affair with pies," and took place in Boulder, Colo., the weekend of Jan. 23, which is National Pie Day. There were nearly 200 entries from around the country spanning both the amateur (or homemade) and commercial categories.

It's only fitting that such an event take place in celebration of the virtues of pie, because pie truly is the quintessential American dessert. The late James Beard, in his book, "American Cookery," tells us that apple pie has been so common in this country that many old American cookbooks did not even think it necessary to provide a recipe. It was assumed that every housewife had her own. Surveys show that apple is still the nation's most popular pie.

Surely part of pie's appeal is that it takes us back to those simpler days when people had more time to bake. Pies conjure up images of warm treats from the oven cooling on the windowsill in grandmother's kitchen. They are pure comfort food.

Unlike cakes, pies are never fussy, never ostentatious. This is not to say they aren't at home in even the most elegant of surroundings. For example, apple pie has been on the menu at Spago, Wolfgang Puck's fashionable restaurant in Los Angeles, ever since it opened in 1982, and because of the demand has never been taken off.

But there's something innately homespun about pie, even fancy ones. Cakes are aristocratic. Pies, at best, are nouveau riche. Even the word pie itself reminds us of its humble origins. According to the Los Angeles Times, the word derives from the name of the magpie, a bird noted for its disorderly nest. Similarly, pie fillings, especially in early times, were haphazard creations.

The simplicity inherent in a pie, of course, is one of the reasons why pie making has a longer tradition than cake baking. Baking cakes in the home is a rather contemporary development, depending as it does on fairly exact measurements and reasonably precise oven temperatures. Pies, on the other hand, are not so demanding, as I discovered to my delight some years ago when strolling on the beach at Yelapa, a little cove near Puerto Vallarta. There genial Mexican ladies greet you, their aprons laden with some of the most wonderful pies imaginable, made using only an outdoor fire and relatively primitive utensils.

Though pies are rather basic, there is one element of them that does pose a culinary challenge: the crust. As Pat Willard, author of a delightful collection of stories and recipes called "Pie Every Day," observes, "If pies could be made without crusts, more people would bake them." She points out that centuries ago people were not so picky about their pie crusts, for crusts originally served as cooking pots and were often nearly as hard. But with the passage of time our standards have risen and what we now think of as the proper pie crust is something our ancestors would have made only on special occasions. This, Willard says, has left contemporary homemakers in a bind. Though they are less practiced in the art of pastry making than their ancestors, their expectations when they do attempt to make pie crust are higher.

So while pies are essentially modest creations, we would do well to heed the advice of the wit who said, "Simple cooking cannot be trusted to a simple cook." The truth of this maxim became clear to me as I completed my judging assignment at the National Pie Championship.

The day of the contest my alarm went off at 7 a.m., but, brimming with anticipation, I had already been awake for over an hour. As I left my hotel room and headed for the contest center the aroma of freshly baked pies greeted me. My pulse quickened.

Salivating, I checked in at the judging table and received a form asking me to list my flavor preferences. This was not easy, for there isn't a pie I don't like. After some contemplation I cleverly listed the "other" category as my favorite, hoping that rather than having to taste dozens of one flavor of pie, I would be treated to a variety. And sure enough, I ended up sampling rhubarb, Key lime, chocolate, mixed berry, apple cranberry, and even sweet potato pie.

I was given a code number and escorted to my judging table where I met my fellow critics. I soon realized that these were people who loved pie nearly as much as I do. For example, Beth, the judge sitting opposite me, as a contestant last year had awakened at three in the morning, baked her pie, and then took it on a plane from her home in Wisconsin to the contest site. She and her mother, she told me, had once baked 200 pies in a single day!

The contest began. I was in the commercial division where each pie was coded either standard, premium, or gourmet. All the pies in one category were brought to our table and carefully sliced one by one. After the first slice had been removed, the remaining pie was held up lovingly so we could see if it was too firm or runny. Appearance counted for 25 percent of the score.

Then each judge was given a slice to taste and asked to record his or her impressions as to flavor, mouthfeel, aftertaste, and overall appeal or memorability. Of course, we used a fresh plate and fork every time and cleared our palates with crackers between bites. It was only after the ninth slice that I realized that the other judges at my table were merely taking a bite or two of each pie while I instead was eating the entire slice. They were clearly less committed to the enterprise than I, but I resisted reprimanding them for their obvious lack of dedication.

Two hours and 15 pies later, the task was finished. I tallied my score sheets, turned them in, and waited for the winners to be announced while glancing furtively at the pies I didn't get to try. We judges were surprisingly uniform in our ratings and the pie I had picked as my favorite did, indeed, win.

Later that evening I went to dinner with a group of friends. They laughed as the waitress brought the dessert menu at the end of the meal. Surely I wouldn't be in the mood for dessert, they said. But there it was, right at the top of the menu. Banana cream pie with whipped cream and almond toffee bits. How could I resist? I was already in training for next year's contest.

Maple Pecan Pie

You might think that winning three awards at the National Pie Championship constitutes pie in the sky, but it was a reality for Marles Riessland of Riverdale, Neb. She won first prize in the nut and custard categories and took the cake, so to speak, winning best of show for this pecan pie spiked with maple syrup.

Ingredients:

unbaked 9-inch pie shell

4 eggs, well beaten

3/4 cup sugar

1/2 cup maple syrup

1/2 light corn syrup

1/2 cup dark corn syrup

2 1/2 teaspoons vanilla

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 1/4 cups broken pecans

1/3 cup melted butter

Directions:

Mix sugar, syrups, vanilla, and salt with eggs until blended. Stir in pecans and butter. Brush pie shell with slightly beaten egg white and pour in filling. Bake at 350 degrees for 45-55 minutes until center is set. Brush hot pie with maple syrup and cool.

Mississippi Mud Pie

This recipe was given to me long ago by Nell Beall who used to be the housemother at the since razed Leming Hall on the university campus. Over the years it has become a favorite at our house. It's easy to make, but baking can be a little tricky. If you overbake the pie it will still be good, but it will lose the silky texture which makes it outstanding.

Ingredients:

unbaked 9-inch pie shell

1 stick butter

1/2 cup chocolate chips

4 eggs, beaten

3 tablespoons light corn syrup

1 1/2 cups sugar

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon vanilla

Directions:

Melt butter and chocolate and cool slightly. Add remaining ingredients and blend thoroughly. Pour into pie shell and bake at 325 degrees for 30-40 minutes or until top is crusty and filling is just set.

Savannah Banana Pie

This recipe, a streamlined version of one from Maida Heatter, is, as she says, out of this world. You can use already caramelized Mexican cajeta, available at international food stores, instead of the condensed milk.

Ingredients:

baked 9-inch pie shell

1 can (14 ounce) sweetened condensed milk

3-4 ripe bananas

1 1/2 cups whipping cream

2 tablespoons powdered sugar

1 cup chopped English toffee bars

Pour milk into 2-quart glass measure and microwave at 50 percent power for 4 minutes, stirring briskly every 2 minutes, until smooth. Cook on 30 percent power 12-18 minutes or until very thick and caramel colored, stirring briskly every 2 minutes, until smooth. Cool. Slice bananas evenly over crust. Place spoonfuls of caramelized milk evenly over bananas and smooth top to cover. Refrigerate 4-8 hours. Whip cream, spread over pie, and top with toffee.

Got a culinary question you'd like to ask or an idea you'd like to see treated in this column? Send your suggestions to A Harte Appetite, c/o The Southeast Missourian, P.O. Box 699, Cape Girardeau, Mo., 63702-0699 or by e-mail to tharte,@semovm.semo.edu.

~Tom Harte is a professor at Southeast Missouri State University and writes a food column every other week for the Southeast Missourian.