Quotes from The Virago Book of Food: The Joy of Eating
1872 - 1942
In honour of cherry pie a special eulogy should be written, one not restricted to the limitations of page or space. The sensitive hand of a Gaugin is required to portray the bowl - a bowl of Old Staffordshire in flowing blue, into whose heavenly depths the luscious crimson of juicy fruit was pitted. And only the epicure in taste and touch can gauge for you the exact amount of sugar which will temper the acid and still leave free just the right tartness to tingle the palate and tease the tongue. My mother, however, knew her cherry pie. She compounded a mixture of flour, lard, and water, rolled it into a nicety of depth, neatly fitted it to a tin, and filled it not quite to the top with cherries reeking of crimson juice. A second crust embellished with an embroidered scroll was laid over the top, pinched down around the edges to melt with its mate, and the whole brought to a state of consummate perfection in an oven of slow-baking temperature. Served, not warm, never chilled, but just fresh, a cherry pie like this without doubt one of the items in those Olympic feasts which gave rise to the phrase 'foods for the gods'.
The Country Kitchen
Cherry Pie à la Mode by Hall Groat II