Out back of my grandmother’s house in Lumpkin, Georgia, towered a grand old pecan tree. Whenever we visited in the fall, we would collect a grocery sack full of pecans, and Granddaddy would shell them while he watched the TV news. We kids could eat those pecans almost as fast as he cracked them.
Those pecans were perfect. It was a wild seedling tree, not one of the commercial varieties. Pecan experts claim that seedlings produce poorer tasting nuts; but that tree in Grandmother’s backyard defied the experts, producing pecans that were smaller and sweeter than store-bought pecans.
Grandmother would mix a cup of nuts with syrup, sugar, and eggs, and make a perfect pecan pie. The crust was golden brown, the filling the color of honey, and it smelled like heaven.
I had Grandmother’s recipe. I had Grandmother’s pecans. I made a pecan pie, which looked and smelled like the cigars that Granddaddy used to smoke.
To read the secret to perfect pecan pie, check out my most recent article on Squidoo, The Secret to Perfect Pecan Pie.