Blue Ridge Country - November/December 2013 - 41

I grew up In Northeast Tennessee and my wife Jill
in Southwest Virginia. Our families raised prolific gardens. But unless it might have been a squash casserole
or a pan of stuffed peppers, most of the bounty from
those gardens came to the table unaffected by recipes.
Corn was boiled and buttered. Beans were simmered
in water and pork side meat. Tomatoes were sliced and
salted. Cucumbers were bathed in vinegar and water.
The aim was to let the natural, unadorned flavors of
the farm and garden stand on their own. Typically,
recipe-driven precision came in only with the baking
of biscuits and cornbread. And their exact measurements had become such an ingrained daily routine for
our mothers and grandmothers that recipe cards and
books were never consulted.
When asked to represent Appalachia through recipes, though, we have chosen these. Most link directly
to the kitchens of people we have known.

Loudon County (Tenn.) Apple Pie:
A Treasured Favorite
Richard Marius was one of the brightest people I have
ever met. I had known about his brilliance as a writer
and a scholar for a long time, but until I began working
on a book of stories and recipes connected to East
Tennessee State University, I was unaware of his passion for apple pie. Richard, who directed the expository
writing program at Harvard and wrote several novels
and biographies, was scheduled to spend a semester
teaching at ETSU, but illness prevented it. He sent me
this apple pie recipe less than 10 months before his
untimely death in 1999. It is one of my most treasured
recipes.
What follows are excerpts from Richard Marius’
narrative on the pie, and then the recipe.
I grew up at Dixie Lee Junction, where highways
11 and 70 come together, just below Knoxville. I was
born there in the house I now own on our farm . . . My
mother, Mary Eunice, taught me to make apple pies.
We had a wonderful apple orchard on our farm. My
father planted Winesaps, and they flourished throughout my childhood and then stopped bearing, as apple
trees do. They were marvelously sour . . . Mother said
that if I wanted apple pie so much, I could make it
myself. She taught me about the lemons, the cinnamon, the sugar and the butter, but her crust was not
nearly as buttery as mine. When I went to school in
France and then later when I taught there, I saw how
much butter the French use. So I have fallen into the
habit of making my crust almost all butter, dried out
with a little flour, and people always like it. I don’t put
sugar in the crust. I hate a pie that is so sweet that one
can’t appreciate the sour.
First the crust. Fold together four cups of flour with
three sticks of butter, the butter unsalted and not
exactly soft but not frozen either when you start. Add

a dash of salt and measure in just enough ice water to
allow the crust to hold together. I always pour my ice
water in from a cup that has ice floating in it. Roll the
crust into a ball and wrap it in wax paper or plastic
wrap and put it in the refrigerator.
Then prepare the apples, using only Winesaps or
Granny Smiths. You need a good firm sour apple for
pies. No Delicious or any sweet garbage. Peel the
apples and cut them into thin sections – not paperthin but also not thick chunks. I suppose mine are
about an eighth of an inch thick, although of course I
don’t measure. As you cut each apple up, removing the
seeds and the core and the stem, of course, put it in a
big bowl and sprinkle it with lemon juice. Squeeze real
lemons over it. Now and then stir in some sugar as the
bowl fills. I am very generous with the lemon. It keeps
the apples from turning brown in the air, although
with Granny Smiths you don’t have quite the problem
that you have with inferior breeds. I like a very full pie.
When the apples are heaping in the bowl, take your
crust out of the refrigerator. It should have been there
about an hour. Roll it out, not too thin, but then I like
a thick crust. I don’t bake the crust before I put the
apples in, though I know some who do. Line the bottom of your pie tin with the crust and put the apples
in. Sprinkle cinnamon over the top and take little
drops of butter all over the top of the pie. Then cover
with the crust. My crusts are very thick and inartistic.

Mother said that if I wanted apple pie so much,
I could make it myself. She taught me about
the lemons, the cinnamon, the sugar and the
butter, but her crust was not as buttery as mine.
The main thing is to leave holes for the steam from the
pie to escape. Preheat your oven to about 375 degrees.
Cook until the crust is a good toasty brown but not
too brown. Let cool for about 45 minutes and then
devour. It’s not very complicated, but it’s delicious.
Allan Benton’s Country Ham
and Redeye Gravy
Allan Benton has become one of the world’s most wellknown and respected pork purveyors. Like Janette
Carter, he hails from Scott County, Virginia. Now he
is the proprietor of Benton’s Smoky Mountain
Country Hams in Madisonville, Tenn. More than 30
restaurants in Manhattan alone use Allan’s products.
Brown sugar makes an appearance here, too, as an
addition to the two-toned red-eye gravy, made from
the leavings of fried country ham.
NOVEMBER/DECEMBER 2013 | 41

Blue Ridge Country - November/December 2013

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