Plum Deadly by Ellie Grant Page B

disappointed. I’ve been putting this off because I didn’t want you to know.”
    “Don’t be silly,” Aunt Clara scolded in a voice Maggie remembered from her childhood when she’d lied or stayed out too late. “Of course you can cook. You haven’t really tried is all.”
    Maggie smiled nervously and listened to what her aunt had to say.
    “Now, the biggest secret of making the perfect piecrust every time is to make sure that everything is ice cold. That makes the crust flaky instead of chewy. You chill your bowl as well.”
    Clara put on her apron and measured two cups of flour into the bowl she took out of the refrigerator. “After you get the flour in the bowl, you add one cup of chilled shortening to it. Then add your one and a half teaspoons of salt in there too.”
    Maggie put on an apron and made mental notes, knowing there was sure to be a test later when Aunt Clara wanted her to make her own piecrust.
    “Now you want to work in the shortening quickly, with a light hand. Our family has always prided itself on not using a pastry blender or any other implement to cut in the shortening. Nothing can take the place of the human hand, you see.”
    It looked easy enough, Maggie thought. Maybe she could do it.
    “Most people work the shortening in until the particles are about the size of peas.” Aunt Clara continued rubbing the flour and shortening lightly using her fingertips. “But the secret to really good piecrust is that the particles are even smaller than peas. Just be patient and keep working your dough. Not too much, keep it light.”
    “What size would you say those particles should be?” Maggie asked her so she’d know later.
    “You remember that time you got in trouble for accidentally shooting little David Walker next door with his BB gun?”
    Maggie smiled at that memory despite the amount of trouble she’d been in at the time. Aunt Clara and Uncle Fred had told her not to spend time with David when he had the gun. He’d threatened to use it on her and Maggie had taken it from him. It had fired accidentally during that transfer. David had to have a BB taken out of his arm.
    “Sure. So, BB size?”
    “Exactly.” Aunt Clara tipped the bowl toward Maggie to make sure she saw the size. “This part is very important.”
    “Whatever happened to David?” Maggie asked, thinking about the boy next door again.
    “I think he went into the navy. He might be out now. Maybe he’s not married.”
    Maggie smiled. “I thought you liked Ryan.”
    “I do. He seems like a very nice man. There’s no reason you can’t shop around, right?”
    That almost made Maggie burst out laughing.
    Next, Aunt Clara took some cold water out of the refrigerator. “It has to be as cold as it can be to get the proper consistency.”
    She began sprinkling the cold water, only one tablespoon at a time, mixing it with her fingers. When the particles were moistened enough, they began to stick together.
    “Don’t use any more water than you have to and mix quickly so the crust bakes up flaky instead of tough. Cover the dough. I always use a clean tea towel, even at the shop. Then we have to let it chill for at least thirty minutes before we roll it out.”
    “That doesn’t seem too bad,” Maggie said. “I thought it would be harder.”
    “It’s not hard at all.” Aunt Clara put the bowl back into the refrigerator. “You have to remember the measurements and keep everything cold. Then mix with your fingers and you’ve got it.”
    “Okay.”
    “Of course, there’s the rolling part, and baking is important too,” Aunt Clara said. “You’ll get it. The women in our family always do.”
    “So what’s your favorite kind of pie?”
    Aunt Clara thought a minute. “It was always coconut custard.”
    Maggie thought about the pie menu at the shop, which she’d memorized. “There’s no coconut custard on the menu. Why don’t you make that kind?”
    Tears welled in her aunt’s eyes. “Because I can’t make it