Easter Pie

Easter Pie is one of the many traditions that our family has. For as long as I can remember my mom has been making Easter Pie on Good Friday, and has always enjoyed doing it. This was the year I finally made the pie myself. After years of watching her make it I had a pretty good idea what I was doing, although I am very jealous she got to have my dad help her roll the dough, because that part REALLY is not easy. I cheated a little in making the pie by doing it on Thursday night before Good Friday, which I hope doesn't upset too many people. I made two pies and I believe they turned out great! I brought some to my bosses at my accounting job and the rest of the first pie to The Cafe to share with my co-workers there. The second pie I brought with us to Minneapolis where I spent Easter with the Rebarcak's. Brady's sister Kiley had her first baby and we went up to celebrate Easter with them and to spend time meeting a sweet little girl named Avery.

The following is a story that my Uncle Frank shared with me a few years ago when I was preparing my senior project, a compilation of family recipes and traditions. I hope this will open your eyes to what Easter Pie is, and the incredible meaning it has to our family.


Of all the culinary traditions in our home making the Easter Pie with my father (or watching him make it) was the most fun (of funniest). Invariable the pie would explode in the oven, drippings would burn and the house would fill with smoke. He got the original recipe from his mother. The pie consisted of a single sheet of “dough” laid flat, ingredients laid on top, and another sheet of “dough” laid on top like a dome. It was about five inches high in the center and laid on a pan to bake. He made one simple change sometime in the early 80’s that vastly decreased the incidence of explosion. I, however continued with the original recipe until 1994. Then, after much pressure from my wife Mary Jane, I broke down and made the change. The change was simple: buy pie crusts in a pan. These act as small contained repositories for the impending reactions.

Now, you have to bear with me because the tradition of making Easter Pie transcends the pie. Originally he would go to Newark and make the pie with his mother. Later, he would make the pie at home. Most important to him was making enough pies to share with as many people as possible. I was married and sometimes would go to the house and make them with him. Depending on the circumstance, we all enjoyed watching, helping, or staying as far from the kitchen as possible.

I later started to make them on my own. This is also when we started to get a little “cultish.” Margie and Theresa moved out west. They couldn’t get the ingredients for the pie out there during the late seventies and early eighties. My father would mail them the unavailable ingredients. We would all make our Easter Pies on Good Friday and we would all call each other during the day to ask how the pie was coming along. My father was experimenting with different crusts at the time and I was stubbornly using his mother’s recipe.

Dad passed away in 1987. I picked up the ingredient mailing responsibility for the next few years until the ingredients became available on the West Coast. My mother would come up for the Easter weekend. Nancy, and sometimes Toni, would also come up to my house to make the pie. We made the pies on Good Friday and made our phone calls. Sometimes I would freeze a pie and mail it out west. We would do the prep work for Easter Dinner on Saturday. On Easter Sunday, we had the pie for dessert. And everyone would remind me that Dad’s pie was better.

Mom passed away in 2001. I still make the pie on Good Friday. And think about the days in Linden with Dad, the phone calls and Mom sitting in my kitchen while we made the pie.


Here I am on Easter with the Pie :)



The Pie after it came out of the oven!