On Presidents Day, why not make a George Washington pie?

July 2024 · 5 minute read

In February 1955, The Washington Post women's section published a letter from a Mrs. Fountaine of the District. "I would like a recipe for Washington pie, which is an old-time favorite of my husband," she requested. "Can anyone oblige?"

Apparently, no one could. I found no recipe in subsequent sections. Washington pie had seemingly disappeared from the consciousness of the city.

But in the 19th and early 20th centuries, just about everyone in Washington — nay, in the country — knew how to make Washington pie. And if they didn’t know how to make it, they had at least eaten it or knew what it was.

Of course, every version was probably different. Some, strictly speaking, weren’t even pie. They were cake, and “Washington cake” appeared in print as often as “Washington pie.”

In honor of Presidents’ Day, I decided to make George Washington pie using one of the recipes that appeared in The Post back before Mrs. Fountaine made her query. How did it taste? Well, let’s let it cool before I get to that.

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Almost from its inception, there was disagreement over what exactly Washington pie was and where it came from. In her 1965 book "Red-Flannel Hash and Shoo-Fly Pie," Lila Perl claimed that the dessert arose during the Civil War when housewives in Washington couldn't get lard for pie crusts. But that must be apocryphal, since Washington pie was mentioned in cookbooks as early as 1850.

Perl and the cookbooks agreed on one thing: It wasn’t a pie at all, but a sponge cake baked in a pie pan and split into two layers. Jelly was spread over the bottom layer, and the top layer was lightly sprinkled with powdered sugar.

So, not a pie. A layer cake. Some variation of that is what I found in most references. Recipes called for mixing and baking your basics — butter, eggs, sugar and flour — and then topping that with, well, take your pick: raspberry jam, whipped cream, custard, coconut, chocolate icing or some other sweet treat.

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In 1932, the Dodge Hotel at North Capitol and E streets NW advertised that its Washington’s Birthday Bicentennial Dinner desserts would include a Washington cake with “strawberry southern,” whatever that is.

Confusingly, though Washington pie was usually a cake, it could also be a pie, though a very odd pie, indeed.

A 1908 story in The Post headlined “The Power of the Pie” dismissed the Washington pie thusly: “As a pie it is a nefarious fraud, but hungry men have eaten it with great relish. ... It is made of shortened pie dough filled with stale bread, pieces of cake, the refuse of the bakery, cheap spices, a few raisins and an occasional shingle nail.”

This was cake inside a pie, not a turducken, but a piecaken. It was a way for a baker to unload some of his older, less-attractive stock.

In 1930, The Post published a letter from an “Old Habitant” describing this cake/pie hybrid: “It was composed beneath the crust of a dark brown filling which had some resemblance to dried apples with bits of lemon peel thrown in for flavoring.” Alas, this version of the Washington pie was gone: “We will never see its like again, and only a centenarian is left here and there to mourn its loss.”

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(That's the sort of Washington pie that Hudson Valley, N.Y., writer Sharyn Flanagan recently made and wrote about. Her verdict: "Very interesting taste sensation having pie crust and cake in the same bite," she wrote me in an email.)

A 1934 anecdote involving then-Labor Secretary Frances Perkins illustrates the fluidity of Washington pie. Perkins had grown fond of it in Boston, but when she ordered it in Philadelphia, the waiter seemed puzzled. He conferred with a colleague, then returned with a wedge of chocolate cake.

“But the Washington pie I get in Boston is light cake and has powdered sugar on top,”“ Perkins said. “This is chocolate.”

The waiter explained: "They named theirs after George Washington. We named ours after Booker T."

I found all manner of Washington pie recipes in The Post, including one composed of crumbled macaroons topped by lady fingers, all drenched in a lemon chiffon filling. I chose one from 1935 because it was so weird:

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3 egg whites

¾ cup sugar

10 white soda crackers, medium size

1 ½ teaspoons baking powder

½ teaspoon almond extract

½ cup chopped nut meats

8 marshmallows cut in quarters

Beat the egg whites until stiff. Then add the sugar a little at a time and beat constantly while adding. Roll the crackers very fine and mix the baking powder thoroughly with the cracker crumbs. Fold this cracker crumb mixture, the almond extract, the nut meats and the marshmallows into the beaten egg whites. Place in a well-greased 9-inch layer-cake tin and bake in a moderate oven (350 degrees) for about half an hour. When serving, cut like pie and top with sweetened whipped cream to which maraschino cherries, cut in small pieces, have been added.

Mine kind of fell apart structurally — too much marshmallow, not enough cracker? — but it tasted pretty good. Happy birthday, George.

Twitter: @johnkelly

For previous columns, visit washingtonpost.com/johnkelly.

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