The Rinky Dink Pie

When I first read Margit Beerli’s story, I was instantly taken back. While she has some 60 years more life-experience than me, I couldn’t help but reminisce about when my grandmother would tell me stories about her mother as a child, or even her grandmother’s childhood! The phrase “patterns and rules” really struck a chord for some reason. Maybe it’s how sewing was an art on both sides of my family–my mother made her own lined suit as a teenager, along with most of her clothes; my great grandmother on my dad’s side was a beautiful quilter. Maybe it’s my own lack of sewing knowledge or remembering the stories of the women in my family making beautiful garments and bed spreads. Maybe it’s my understanding that times past are times past–something I’m just now getting used to. It’s funny how as we age time seems to literally speed up. As a kid, I remember hearing “one hour and forty five minutes” and thinking that was FOR-EV-ER! But I’ve realized that I enjoy getting older; I honestly wouldn’t go back in time for anything. I enjoy the process age brings us of learning, exploring, pushing, discovering, and understanding. Andrew and a lot of my friends joke with me that I’m an old soul. And you know what? I take that as a compliment and I hope that it’s true.

Margit Beerli, Rinky Dink Pie

My life is simple right now because I choose to live uncomplicated and because I am in the third third of my life. I have raised my family, tripped, stumbled and danced through my middle years and now I’m savoring my surroundings: blooming peonies, the quality of light in the morning on the mimosa tree, the surprise of gold finches suddenly taking flight in a cloud of yellow. In the kitchen, I’m searching, always searching, for deep deliciousness in what I prepare, for seduction and surprise. My pie draws from the past. It comes from my mother’s childhood where there were patterns and rules. Every Sunday, in the summer, the family would meet at the park for a picnic. Mrs. Nelson always brought Rinky Dinks, individual tarts with an ambrosial coconut custard filling. You were allowed to eat one. I will make my pie of the coconut filling and lace the top with a thin criss-cross of dark chocolate. Imagine it: the custard so delicious it makes you stop, close your eyes, and succumb to sensuousness rarely experienced. And then the little bit of crunch and the shot of chocolate toying with the pie. There you have it, simple and deep, calm and seductive, pure and delicious.

Rinky Dink Pie

2 cups granulated sugar
1⅓ cups water
4 ounces angel flake sweetened coconut
7 Tablespoons salted butter
7 egg yolks
Pie dough for one crust

Good dark chocolate, chopped and melted

Bring sugar and water to a boil in a medium saucepan. Cook at a simmering boil for 15 minutes. Add the coconut and continue the simmering boil for another 15 minutes. Cool and add the butter. Beat the egg yolks until they are light yellow and stir into the batter.
Preheat oven to 350°. Roll out pie dough and cut into a circle larger than top diameter of your pie pan Carefully place the circle into the pan, pressing down along the sides and fluting the edge. Pour batter into pastry shell. Bake for about 25 minutes or until the pie is a lovely golden tan. Insert a knife into the center and it should come out relatively clean. Set on a rack to cool completely. Drizzle the chocolate sparingly across the pie. Serve at room temperature. If you are not serving immediately, keep in the refrigerator.