Several weeks later I was in need of butter and so I went to the freezer to get some. Now keep in mind at that time, we made our own butter. We had an old fashion butter churn which kept us busy for hours churning away, waiting for that cream to turn to butter. After the butter was ready we would form it into thin flat pancake like shapes, wrap it in plastic and put it in the freezer for future use. As I grabbed the butter out of the freezer, my dad looked up from the kitchen table and asked me what I was doing. “I need butter” I said. “That’s not butter” my dad informed me. “Yes it is” I told him “that’s what I used in the pie crusts I made.” The room fell silent as my best friend, JD, my brothers, sister and mom all took a moment to ponder this turn of events. The flat butter like pancake that I was holding in my hand and had used to make my winning pie crust was none other than the Crisco, powdered sugar, and penicillin bee patties that my mom had made to medicate her honey bees. All of a sudden many mysteries were solved. The guy who ate four pieces of pie had been fighting a cold for weeks; it cleared right up after the BBQ. None of the rest of us who had eaten the pie had gotten sick since the time of the pie. I wondered why my crust was so flavorful and flaky; now I knew the secret…it’s all in the penicillin.
I gave up dreams of pie crusts and opening my own bakery after that. I would never live down the story of the best pie ever and to this day, I start to tremble when I think of making a pie crust.