A Daughter to Her Mother

As a child I always loved watching my mom bake a pie. To me it was like watching a fine art in progress. The precision of the ingredients, the exact rolling out of the dough. My favorite part was when she would shape the pie crust with her thumb. Scalloped u-shapes would form around the entire pan like Michelangelo sculpting his David. Then she would place it in the oven and soon the smell would float through the kitchen to the entire house. I could never have any of the pie because it was...