Marriage often brings surprises, and joining the Dalton family was no exception. One of the most delightful—and delicious—discoveries was their unwavering love for pies. Every Thanksgiving, the Daltons didn’t just bake a pie or two. No, they had a tradition that could only be described as epic: a pie for every person at the table.
The concept wasn’t about eating an entire pie—it was about the sheer abundance and joy of it all. After a meal that could rival a feast, we’d each take slivers of every flavor imaginable: pecan, chocolate cream, lemon meringue, and more, each with a tender, flaky crust. It was heaven to sit surrounded by twenty beautiful pies (or more!), a testament to their love of food, family, and tradition.
But Thanksgiving isn’t just about indulgence; it’s about connection. Dianne’s mom passed away at Christmastime in 2002, leaving a legacy of warmth and masterful pie-making behind. Her dad, Morrie, carried on for over a dozen years in their 1906 farmhouse, growing tomatoes and reading in his old leather recliner by a sunny window.
Dianne and I visited often, and while his meals were humble—slow-cooked roast, tasty tacos dripping with grease—dessert was always a labor of love: banana cream pie.
It wasn’t fancy—just Jell-O pudding, Cool Whip, bananas, and a graham cracker crust—but it was the most meaningful banana cream pie I’ve ever tasted. With each bite, Morrie honored the memory of his wife, the woman he cherished for over 50 years.
As you savor your pie this Thanksgiving, I hope it’s more than a dessert. I hope it’s a memory, a connection, a piece of love shared with those around you. May every bite remind you of the sweetness of the past and the bonds that make life rich, just like Morrie Dalton’s banana cream pie.
I'd love to hear about your Thanksgiving memories or family favorite recipes! I know Dianne would love to share her favorites, too!
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