Southern Fried Pies – Nance and Robyn make the same recipe

Come join us on Facebook!

Every week we’ll post a recipe that we both made. This week’s recipe was Southern Fried Pies, found over at Group Recipes. Printable recipe can be found at the bottom of this post.

Robyn’s Take:

This week’s recipe was chosen by Nance. I okayed it because – I think we’ve established this – both Nance and I generally look at the finished product for a recipe and don’t bother to do much more than glance at the ingredients and instructions. So when the time came for me to make these pies, I actually looked at the recipe and I was like “JESUS CHRIST, NANCE. WHAT THE FUCK?!”

One thing you need to know about me, and I feel certain that I’ve said this before: I ain’t making no damn pie dough from scratch. It just is NOT going to happen, and I will save you some time here, folks. Don’t tell me how easy it is, don’t send me “Granny’s OMG Best Pie Crust Ever, Only Takes 30 Seconds to Make, Perfect Results Guaranteed Every Time!” recipe. I’m not making pie dough from scratch. NOT GONNA. NEVER. SO HUSH.

(Amanda is rolling around in agony right now and her high horse is totally snorting and pawing at the ground.)

Also, the original recipe played it pretty fast and loose with the filling. Basically – “prepared filling.” Okay, well, this is going to be easy, isn’t it?


DCEP (4)

Pie dough and prepared pie filling. I decided to make blueberry pies, obviously. Not shown: Crisco, which is what you fry your pies in.

On a side note, very hot oil makes me kind of nervous. One morning in November 1996 (so, like, before many of you were BORN), we were making a big breakfast for, um, breakfast. Fred was in charge of making gravy, and as he was stirring together the oil and flour, he got all VIGOROUS with his stirring. I was standing next to him cooking the scrambled eggs, and suddenly I thought to myself “Hmm. My foot feels odd.”

GODDAMN RIGHT my foot felt odd. A tsunami of boiling oil and flour had landed on TOP of my motherfucking foot, and was in the process of merrily burning the shit out of it. I screamed and backed away from the stove, and then Fred bent down and wiped the boiling oil off the top of my foot, removing a layer of skin and burning the shit out of his hand in the process. We spent the day in the emergency room and I could barely walk for a month afterward.

So I tend to avoid boiling oil, is my point. Anyway.

Then I was like “WHY are we making pie again? I’m not even that crazy about pie. No one in this house is all that crazy about pie!”

DCEP (3)
“I like pie!”

DCEP (1)
“Me, me! I’ll take some pie!”

DCEP (2)
“Oh my ceiling cat! There’s PIE?!”

I decided to use just one of the pie crusts, instead of both, since Fred and I were in agreement that we weren’t going to be any kind of big fans of these little annoying PAIN IN MY ASS fried pies.

Unroll the pie crust.

DCEP (5)

While this part was going on, I plopped a large amount of solid Crisco into the cast iron pan and set it over medium heat. I did take a picture, but it came out blurry and I decided to delete rather than share it. YOU’RE WELCOME.

I used a big plastic cup to cut out my individual pies.

DCEP (6)

Plopped some filling on each pie dough round.

DCEP (7)

Folded ’em over, and crimped the edges with a fork dipped in water.

DCEP (8)

Don’t be impressed by the ONE pretty pie I managed. The other three barfed out their fillings all over the counter.

DCEP (9)

The Crisco was melted and hot, so I put the pies in.

DCEP (10)

I wish I’d been paying attention to how long they were cooking before I decided to turn them over, because it was TOO FRIGGIN’ LONG. The one on the right was allllmost burnt.

DCEP (11)

You see all that oil flying through the air? What a pain in the ass to clean up.

When I decided they were done, I removed them from the oil and put them on paper towels to drain. After they’d cooled for a couple of minutes, I sprinkled them with Turbinado sugar. Then I used the rest of my dough to make a weirdly-shaped pie, and threw the rest of the pie dough in the Crisco to cook. Yes, I could have re-rolled the pie dough, but

DCEP (12)

Then I put the other four pies on a plate and tried to take a decent picture.

DCEP (14)

DCEP (15)

Fuck you, you fucking pies.

The verdict? I actually liked them. In fact, I liked them so much that the chickens and dogs didn’t get ANY of those pies. Fred didn’t like them, because he doesn’t like blueberry pie. If I were to do it over again, I’d probably use apple butter or cherry jam as the filling.

Will I make these again? No, but only because the cleanup was a pain. I’d happily eat them if someone made them for me in their own kitchen. Or actually, I’d make them myself if someone else came in and cleaned up after me.


Nance’s take:

Sorry about this entry being late. Some of us worked all weekend and it appears that some of us celebrated 420.  Are you high, Felina Marie?


If there is a recipe on here that isn’t healthy just go ahead and assume that I’m the one who picked it. I have a serious sweet tooth and I admit that our web site makes it awfully convenient for me to indulge in questionable food choices.  Ha!  I seriously just tried to justify why I chose fried pies for the recipe this week.  Like, really.  I don’t need to justify shit, man.  It’s FRIED PIES!

First, I have to tell you about the crap I had to go through just to make these freaking pies.  My mom has had a thing about stainless steel cookware that has been driving me batshit for years. She always yaps at me about how my aunt Red still uses the stainless steel cookware that she got when she was first married (50+ years ago). And how it still looks like new! She’s been telling me about this stainless steel cookware for years.


When I saw a set of Wolfgang Puck’s cookware at the store I picked it up for her. I guess we’ll just call it a shut-the-fuck-up-already gift (because that’s exactly what it was).  It was cheap enough and I figured she would get over her stainless steel fascination when she got tired of scrubbing scorched food all the time.  I also wasn’t expecting much from them because they’re a celebrity brand and I don’t have much faith in that kind of stuff.  Can you say the Hulk Hogan Ultimate Grill?  But, of course, I’m completely wrong and OHMYGAWD, WE LOVE THESE FREAKING POTS & PANS!

But the real kick in the ass?  My mom is an ASSHOLE about them.  She watches us when we’re using them (lest we do something harmful to them).  She even had the audacity to critique the way I washed them one day (and trust me, I am a maniac about clean dishes).  It’s a TO-DO any time we want to use them and I have already threatened her more than once that I will buy my own set because she’s such a fucking bitch about hers.

Which leads me to the making of the fried pies.  I wanted to use her pan because it was deeper than mine.  I was allowed, but trust me, she was keeping an eye on things.  Seriously.  She’s INSANE (but you guys already knew that).


I may or may not like to torture her when I use them now because I am of the age where she can no longer beat my ass. The set came with spatulas, etc., and I decided I was going to use them only because she actually had them HIDDEN from us. Why? Her answer, “Because I didn’t want yunz messing them up.” Welcome to north of Pittsburgh! And also, how the hell could we possibly mess up kitchen tools?  Jesus H.

Note:  My mom would never in a million years stop me from using any of her things.  Yes, I am doing nothing but torturing Shirley for shits and giggles.  Some adult children need therapy to correct any damage that their parents supposedly did while they grew up.  Me?  Payback is a bitch, Shirley.  Hee!


Shirley (obviously not a very good hand model…moisturize already!) is showing the proper way to measure flour. Do you guys know anybody who doesn’t do this? I wonder if young people today have a clue that you have to measure flour this way. We’re going to have to start doing some basic how-to pages soon.


Shirley used MY camera to get this action shot of me putting the sugar in. Please note: Shirley is welcome to use my camera whenever she wants and I don’t say a word. Who’s not selfish? ME.


It’s right about this time that I figured I would use the pie filling in my morning yogurt.  I thought I had conquered making pie crusts, biscuits, etc., but I assumed it was back to the drawing board when I saw this mess.


Once I used my hands it came together pretty well. I threw it in the refrigerator and used my cell phone to call Rick to tell him he needed to pick up Crisco. Why can’t anybody tell me when they use up something and know we need more? Gah.


Here I am rolling that dough out like it’s my job. I’m using my mom’s metal rolling pin that she’s had for at least 30 years. She got it from one of those door-to-door type sales things. Amway? Yes, I do happen to own many aprons. I just keep thinking that I won’t need to use them and end up having flour handprints all over ass.


I deviated from the recipe and used a bowl to cut the dough out instead of the lid from the Crisco can because it makes for a prettier picture. Heh.


Cherries! I love cherries, but if given a choice I would rather not have the kind that comes in the can. Too much sugar and that thick “sauce” is ridiculous. And is anybody else noticing the ridiculous price of canned fruit? At our local grocery store they wanted $3.99 a can. I accidentally found my fruit at Big Lots for $1.70 a can. WOW.


OMG, you guys! Shirley got Crisco on the side of her precious pan and when I first noticed it I pushed that old woman out of the way and took a picture of it! She was mumbling some pathetic excuse while I was laughing at her and that’s when she dropped her entire spatula into the melted oil. I caught HELL big time for that one and it was SO WORTH IT.


Fried Pie

This was pretty simple, but I still fucked it up. My crust wasn’t thin enough and I used too much filling on some of them. Learn from my mistakes. And also, if you’re using apple pie filling it helps to take them out of the can and cut them into smaller chunks. It makes it much easier to work with.


I used TWO of Shirley’s special utensils to put this in her special skillet.


Fried pie is frying.


I thought about making a glaze for them, but it just seemed like a hassle when I already had a mess with just making the pies. I sprinkled sugar on them when they came out of the skillet as a compromise. Next time I’m definitely going to go with a light glaze. They filling is sweet on its own, but it just needed that little oomph that a glaze would add to make it perfect. The entire family agreed that this is a keeper and Shirley was already yapping about how she could see herself eating one of them on a road-trip.


*Robyn and I are tentatively looking into possibly using DCEP as a virtual piggy bank.  Neither one of us want that kind of sneaky bullshit that you see on other blogs because we’re not into alienating anyone.  Eventually there will be a page about all of this, but we’re just putting our toe in the water right now.  Just know this:  DCEP is not, nor will it ever be, our jobs or our main source of income.  We’re just going to be open to advertising on the side bar and using an Amazon affiliate link.


Southern Fried Pies - Nance and Robyn make the same recipe
Prep time
Cook time
Total time
: Dessert, Snack, Midnight Snack, Midday Snack, Breakfast
Cuisine: South African
Serves: 8
  • 2 c. all-purpose flour
  • 1 tsp baking powder
  • ½ tsp salt
  • 1 T sugar
  • ½ c. Crisco shortening
  • ¾ c. milk
  • (OR just buy a damn prepared pie crust from the store, dummy)
  • Prepared filling of your choice.
  1. Whisk flour, baking powder, salt and sugar together in a large bowl.
  2. Cut in Crisco with a pastry knife, fork, or two knives.
  3. Add milk, stir together, and then roll together.
  4. Chill for 5 minutes.
  5. Roll out pie dough fairly thin (this is an awful recipe. Why would anyone ever make their own pie dough?)
  6. Cut into circles; you can use the top of a large plastic cup or a biscuit cutter or the top of the can of Crisco or your stupid feet. USE WHAT YOU WANT.
  7. Place your prepared filling on one half of the circle, not too close to the edge
  8. Fold the circle in half, over the filling.
  9. Crimp the edges of the pie dough with a fork dipped in water.
  10. Heat a large blop of Crisco shortening in an iron skillet (or whatever the hell kind of skillet you have. Seriously, WTF?)
  11. Lift pies with a spatula, one by one, and place in the hot Crisco, being careful not to splash it all over your stupid self, because that shit is HOT.
  12. Watch the pies carefully and turn them over when they're golden brown.
  13. When the other side is golden brown, remove the pies to paper towels to drain.
  14. Sprinkle each cooked fried pie with granulated sugar (Robyn used Turbinado).


Blueberry-Cream Cheese Hand Pies – Nance & Robyn make the same recipe.

Every week we’ll post a recipe that we both made. This week’s recipe was Blueberry-Cream Cheese Hand Pies, found over at Martha Stewart. Printable recipe can be found at the bottom of this post.

Robyn’s Take:

This week’s recipe was my choice. I think I saw it in Martha Stewart Food magazine, and ripped it out with the intention of making it someday. When we drive up into Tennessee, we stop at this little store run by a Mennonite woman, and she sells hand pies that are really good. I’ve been saying, for years, that I needed to try to make some -only, hers are fried in oil and I wanted to make them baked –  so when I saw this recipe, I was all over it.

First things first: there’s no way on this planet that I’m going to make my own pie dough. I’ve attempted (and fucked up) making pie dough 63 (slight exaggeration) times, and when I can buy the same thing at the store and same myself the heartache, I am all over that.

So, the ingredients:

Blueberry Hand Pies (1)

Store bought pie dough, sugar, flour, cream cheese, lemon juice, egg, 10 ounces of frozen blueberries. That Spice Islands jar with the label falling off is lemon peel. Shut up – Martha didn’t say it had to be fresh, did she? NO SHE DID NOT.

Blueberry Hand Pies (2)

Dump the (room temperature) cream cheese, lemon zest, sugar, and egg in a bowl and then stir it together. I used my hand mixer so as not to exert one iota more of effort than absolutely required.

Blueberry Hand Pies (3)

In another bowl, mix together blueberries, sugar, lemon juice, and flour. I used a rubber spatula because I’m fancy like that.

Blueberry Hand Pies (4)

With your fillings ready to go, roll out your pie dough onto a sheet of parchment paper. Then cut it (the pie dough, not the parchment paper) into quarters.

Blueberry Hand Pies (6)

Put one heaping Tablespoon of the cream cheese stuff in the middle of each quarter, and then two Tablespoons of the blueberries on top of that.

Blueberry Hand Pies (5)

Brush the edges of each quarter of dough with cream, and then fold the sides of the dough over the filling to make a triangle. “Crimp the edges” of the dough, says Martha. I don’t know what that means, exactly, so I went around the edges with a fork and mooshed them together. Then brush the tops of the pies with cream.

Blueberry Hand Pies (7)

And sprinkle them with sanding sugar. I didn’t have anything called “sanding sugar” and I didn’t want to go searching for it at the grocery store, so I used what I had, which was Turbinado sugar. Sugar’s sugar, right? Right. Don’t try to tell me any different. SUGAR is SUGAR.

Blueberry Hand Pies (9)

See that pie second from the left, with the blueberry filling oozing out? That’s right around the time I started calling Martha Stewart names. The second pan of pies was even more oozy (due to the blueberries thawing, I’m sure), so I threw them together as quickly as I could, remembered at the last moment to cut a slit in the top of each pie, and then put them in the oven.

Blueberry Hand Pies (11)

Yeah, blueberry shit oozed out, but it certainly could have been worse.

Blueberry Hand Pies (12)

And the verdict? Fred didn’t like them – he’s not crazy about cream cheese filling in stuff. I was kind of meh on them – the crust was good, but there was something about the filling I didn’t like. It took me a few bites to figure it out, but I finally realized that it was probably the lemon peel. It had a nasty bitter aftertaste (I blame Martha for not insisting I use fresh lemon zest) and so the pigs got most of the hand pies.

I’m planning to make these again, but I’m not using cream cheese and will probably use something like store made pie filling. Fred loves all things cherry, so I’ll maybe make a batch of cherry hand pies. It was worth trying, just to see that the process of making baked hand pies wasn’t all that difficult. As always, the pigs thought they were superawesomefantabulous and would like more, please.



Nance’s Take:

I went to the store because I needed a lemon for this freaking recipe. A LEMON. $84 later, I have a lemon. Man, this is why I hate to go to the grocery store. Note: Gourmet Basil up there is that stuff that comes in a tube and lasts forever. I bought it because I can’t keep a basil plant alive for some reason. Look at me justifying, whee!


I took the easy way out and bought ready made pie crust because I was in NO MOOD to be making blueberry pies. In fact, I will never be in the mood to make blueberry pies because blueberries should only be in a recipe that is called BLUEBERRY MUFFINS. Served cold with butter. Because I am a fat fatty and dammit that is some good shit right there. I just want y’all to know that this hand held pie business is suspect. I don’t trust it. Because it’s not a muffin.  Are you picking up what I’m laying down?


Parchment paper? Oh, Martha. you goddamn rich whore! I hate it when I have to break out the parchment paper because it’s so expensive and just because I spent $84 at the grocery store that does not mean that I want to be using up all my precious goddamn paper on blueberry pies! I’ve had this box for over a year now because I AM THRIFTY, dammit (and y’all can just hush about my thrifty $84 receipt up there).


See me, saving myself from a heart attack by eating less fat. And also, I did the whole Splenda® replacement thing when it came to the sugar in the recipe. Except for the sanding sugar because I had no choice. After I found out what the hell sanding sugar was thanks to Google. Can I just say that if you’re walking around talking about sanding sugar I’m gonna be rolling my eyes at you. I totally will do it because I’ll think you are a pretentious asshole who sands with her sugar and talks about it.  It’s just too much for my brain to handle.  And no, I am not drunk.


This right here is a zester. Or at least I think that’s what it is called. I know you have got to be impressed that I have this in my kitchen. And jealous. Because the other side actually measures whatever the hell you’re zesting.


Except it didn’t work for shit and I had to give up and just guesstimated the amount of zested lemon I put in it.


I’m not even sure what the reason is for lemon when working with berries. All I know is that this had better not make my cream cheese too crunchy.


This is how I measured my lemon juice. I squeezed both halves and called it perfect. I’m sure Martha would have a stroke. Speaking of Martha, don’t tell anybody but I really like her. I’ll never do any of her dumb crafts and shit, but I figure she can’t be all bad if she has a bunch of animals and a clean house. And I think she’s more than a little uptight. That’s my kinda gal right there!


Why is whipping cream so expensive? $1.99 for a pint. And I only needed two tablespoons of it. Sigh.


I may have put too much zest in this. I’m hoping nobody notices.  And also, I was on pain killers at the time and had to ask my mom how she would “quarter” the pie crust.  It was just too much thinking for me.  We finally figured it out when I noticed that the recipe says it makes 8.  PATHETIC.


This is where I started to wonder if Robyn actually took the time to measure her berries. She’s such a goody-two-shoes that I bet she did.


Man hands trying to fold the pie dough over while taking a picture with the other hand.


This got tedious real fast.


Childish people take the time to twitter their complaints so the whole world knows their pain. Wah, wah, wah.




Coated with heavy cream and sanded with sanding sugar (insert eyeroll here).


This is what they looked like when they came out of the oven. They kind of reminded me of Pop Tarts.


A close-up look at them. I actually did do the right thing and let them cool before eating.  They weren’t bad, but they weren’t really great either.  They were just meh.  Or it could be my issues with blueberry segregation.  I probably (most likely) will never make these again.  Just because it’s such a bother and it’s putting blueberries where they should not be.

Please note:  This does not mean in any way that there will not be fried pies in our future. I am determined to make them because hello, FRIED PIES!

Blueberry-Cream Cheese Hand Pies - Nance & Robyn make the same recipe.
Prep time
Cook time
Total time
Original Source/Author:
: dessert, snack
Serves: 8
  • 8 ounces cream cheese, room temperature
  • ¾ cup granulated sugar
  • 2 teaspoons lemon zest, plus 1 tablespoon lemon juice
  • 1 large egg
  • 10 ounces frozen blueberries
  • 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
  • Pie Dough, each disk rolled ⅛ inch thick
  • 2 tablespoons heavy cream
  • 1 tablespoon sanding sugar
  1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Stir together cream cheese, ½ cup granulated sugar, lemon zest, and egg until smooth. Toss blueberries with ¼ cup granulated sugar, lemon juice, and flour.
  2. Lay 1 dough round on a parchment-lined baking sheet and cut into quarters. Spoon 1 heaping tablespoon cream cheese mixture into center of each quarter. Spoon 2 tablespoons blueberry mixture on top. Brush edges with cream and bring opposite corners together to form triangles; trim if needed. Crimp edges to seal, brush tops with cream, and sprinkle with sanding sugar. Repeat with remaining dough round and fillings. Cut a small vent in each pie and bake until golden, 20 to 25 minutes, rotating sheets halfway through. Let cool completely on wire racks before serving.
The pie dough recipe is here: , but buy the already-made stuff at the store and save yourself the heartache.