What Dads Really Want for Father’s Day is Berry Pie

From my experience with quite a few dads, what they want on Father’s Day is pretty simple. They want loved ones around them, or at least a leisurely call from any who live out-of-town. After that, they want peace, relaxation, freedom from any to-do’s. Good food and drink. Oh, and maybe a Berry Pie.

What do fathers really want

Father’s Day can be tricky. You may be juggling the day on many levels. If you have kids, then there’s this father, possibly your own father – less likely but still possible – your father’s father. Then, there’s your partner or husband’s father, his father’s father.

Maybe your father is no longer with us. Maybe you never knew your father. Maybe you have a non-biological ‘father.’ And so on . . .

The hammock

Still, the idea of the perfect gift for Dad still comes up. I have an early memory of being maybe six years old, and pooling pennies with my siblings (then, heavily supplemented by our mom), and getting our father a hammock for Father’s Day. He seemed pleased upon opening it. But of course, it did give him a to-do; it needed to be assembled.

After assembly, I do have a fleeting vision of our dad taking up position in that hammock. For probably a good five to 10 minutes. I don’t remember what we did after that, but I do remember not really seeing him in that hammock ever again.

It remained in the back yard and it was used to build forts, as a canopy for us to lie underneath on hot, sunny days, and as a place for the whole neighborhood to try to squeeze on to. Some future summer, the sun-bleached canvas of that hammock gave way to a pile of us and into the trash it went.

Fast forward

Years later, I remember our kids saying they should get their dad a hammock for Father’s Day one year. I raised an eyebrow but managed not to comment.

Different generation. Same exercise. My husband looked pleased opening the hammock. Then, the assembly with the “help” of three little kids. Finally, the brief recline in the hammock by the dad on Father’s Day.

Shortly afterwards, it was on to firing up the grill, and whatever else was planned that day. I’m sure I never again saw my husband lying in that hammock

It’s the thought that counts

Maybe the whole point of giving a hammock on Father’s Day is to let the busy father in your world know you thought to give him the idea of pause. And if it really is ‘the thought that counts,’ then this could just be the best gift of all. Or, is it . . .

A father really wants Berry Pie

When I was young, I don’t remember ever really asking my dad what he wanted for Father’s Day. He would likely have answered with a joke, because that was his way. And honestly, I don’t remember him ever asking for anything. He was that kind of dad.

But in the final ten or so years of his life, when I’d mention Father’s Day, he’d catch my gaze, pause for a second, then say, “I would love a Berry Pie.”

Easy as Berry Pie

Honestly? This was a huge relief to me. This, I could do. And do again the following year. And I could tell, it really was what he wanted. So, this became Father’s Day, on repeat.

Some years I tried out new pie crust recipes, rolling techniques, flours. He never seemed to notice.

Some years, I was so pressed for time, and frankly pretty satisfied with the Betty Crocker pre-rolled crusts from the refrigerator section of the grocery, that I used those. He didn’t seem to notice.

The Blueberry Pie recipe on the back of the Kraft Minute Tapioca box was my starting point. I used this for rough measurement and cooking time. But from the very first pie, I began my own experiment using different berries, ratios, less sugar, almond, cinnamon, no cinnamon, and so on. He never seemed to notice.

See the pattern? He just liked Berry Pie. And, it seemed, my Berry Pie. Whatever form it took. And, apparently, as all this experimenting was going on, someone else was noticing the Berry Pies.

My husband.

Maybe the third year in, my husband caught me eye, took a pause, and said, “You know, I’d really love one of those Berry Pies, too.”

Is it true every father wants a Berry Pie

I won’t go far as to say that every father out there wants a Berry Pie for Father’s Day. But I also can’t imagine a father turning away a Berry Pie.

I’m now down to making one Berry Pie for Father’s Day. My dad is gone, so it’s just a Berry Pie for my husband. I find myself washing berries, rolling crusts, and reminiscing about how I won the lottery in the Dad department.

The first rule of baking

This year, I made sure to lay-in enough berries. And, as I began mixing the crust, and preparing to chill it in the refrigerator, I realized I had no Minute Tapioca.

It was late-night, albeit a week early (I needed the image of this pie for this post). So, I did what any good 21st Century baker does. I Googled subs and the sub at the top of the list was corn starch.

I wasn’t in-love with the thought of subbing cornstarch for the Tapioca. But every comment I saw claimed it worked like a charm. And it was late.

Did it work? It did not. It was a sloppy failure. This Berry Pie more closely resembled berry soup.

I finally gave up thinking the cooling process would firm it up, and cut my husband a slice. The berries held up but were suspended in a watery, purple sludge that spilled out onto the plate. I suggested throwing it out. My husband wouldn’t have it.

He took his ‘slice’ with vanilla ice cream, which just added to the overall puddle on his plate.

He really didn’t seem to notice

Possibly as a show of solidarity, or maybe he was just hungry, but my husband had a second, smaller slice after that one.

“How can you even eat that?” I said.

He looked up, and said “It’s delicious.” Apparently, he hadn’t noticed the way it looked.

Or, maybe he had but it just didn’t matter. Such is the magic of a Father’s Day Berry Pie.

Father’s Day = Father’s Day Berry Pie

Despite my latest failure, I suspect Father’s Day will forever mean Berry Pie to me. I will never run out of Minute Tapioca again, however. A baker has some pride. Happy baking!