Turkey Artichoke Pie

On Christmas morning, I opened a small, light bag from my mother. Inside were family recipes I had requested. Immediately, seeing her handwriting, I began to cry. I quickly wiped my eyes and the festivities moved on. I had requested the recipe but forgot that I asked for them as my Christmas present and I didn’t expect to see the recipe for Turkey Artichoke Pie in the stack. 

My grandmother, Dorothy Love, died in 2023. My heart still feels broken by her loss and though she told me herself she was ready to go and that I couldn’t really expect her to live forever, I did expect her to live forever and the world just isn’t the same without her in it. Last Christmas I couldn’t really bear doing all the traditions without her. I didn’t send Christmas cards because I didn’t want to see her name on the list and I didn’t put up a tree because I didn’t want to see the ornaments she had made for me and her great grandchildren over the years. 

This year, I jumped back in but it felt lonely to not have her to share stories with and to make the Christmas menu with. The unexpected joy of seeing her handwriting on Christmas morning brought her right to me. “Thank you everyone, for the generous gifts!” was something she said on Christmas after the opening time. I said the words this year but it’s her voice I heard in my head. 

Turkey Artichoke Pie is not a recipe that I associate with my grandmother because it was my mom that made it for me, though I do love it. It’s a rice and spinach crust filled with turkey and artichokes in a creamy sauce flavored with curry. It’s very delicious and not very hard to make. I plan to make it this week and add some pictures here. 

When I make it this time, I’ll know where the recipe came from. I asked my mom to copy it out for me and I now have the card in her hand and she will keep my grandmother’s card. We both laughed because she offered me which I preferred but my grandmother’s writing, which I love immensely, is very hard to read. A cross between cursive and impatience that is unpredictable. She will keep this one and in many decades, I will see it again in my mother’s things and can remember this Christmas and the way my heart soared when I was surprised to have a little Grandma with me.