
On my refrigerator is a photo my mom sent me from last Thanksgiving. It’s a shot of a long wooden table that’s been topped with an array of pies. There are cream pies, pecan pies, fruit pies and chess pies. They’re not perfect, as the crusts may have rough edges and the meringues don’t always form even peaks. But this is what tells you that these are pies that have been made by hand, with love. There’s nothing better than homemade pie.

There’s a classic Southern tomato pie recipe that calls for an abundance of mayonnaise. This is not it. While that’s a fine pie, it’s always felt like a side player to me and I wanted something heartier—a pie that could take center stage.
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