Wrapped in Dough and Memory

Back in the Day Bakery, Savannah, with Cheryl Day's Bourbon Hand Pies

Some days, all it takes is the scent of warm butter and cinnamon sugar to bring you back to feeling like yourself. I remember the first time I wandered into Back in the Day Bakery on Bull Street—a sweltering Savannah afternoon where the heat clung to your skin like syrup. The city was humming its usual tune, but inside the bakery, it felt like another world. Here was a place where time had no sharp edges, and a bright future was always just a pie crust away.

The counters were filled with cake domes, vintage tins, and handwritten signs. Every surface felt like it had a story. That’s when I saw them: hand pies. Tucked into wax paper, their golden, crimped edges still warm from the oven. Peach Bourbon, the sign read, in script that made it sound like an exotic secret.

Behind the counter stood Cheryl Day, tall and elegant with her apron dusted in flour. There was no mistaking the strength in her hands—those were hands that had folded grief and joy into dough for decades. Pulling a sheet pan from the oven, her apron was floured, her curls pulled back, and there was a calm in her presence that made you slow your breath.

I pointed to the hand pies. “These… are speaking to me.”

She laughed softly, wiping her hands. “Then they’ve done their job.”

“I haven’t seen hand pies like that in years,” I said. “We used to eat them in Beaufort—apple, sometimes fig, but never like this.”

“Peach and bourbon are a little decadent,” she said. “But it’s still the same idea. Simple, honest food. Made from scratch with care.”

I took a bite. The crust shattered delicately, and the filling—peaches, just past ripe, kissed with something dark and complex that made my memory come alive.

“This,” I said, “tastes like it’s been passed down.”

“It has,” Cheryl nodded. “My grandmother used to say: ‘You can tell the truth of a woman by her crust.’ I learned early that crust tells a story. You treat it right, and it holds everything together.”

We stood for a moment in the comfort of quiet.

“You know,” she added, “I think people are starting to remember why these little pies matter. Not everything has to be overdone. Sometimes a pie in your hand, still warm, is enough.”

“It’s more than enough,” I said. “ It’s everything good about the South.”

She smiled. “Then take a few for the road. You’ll want one later when the day settles in.”

She was right. I carried two more hand pies in a brown paper sack and drove with the windows down, the warm scent of butter and peaches filling the car like a hymn. Every bite felt like a link in a long chain of Southern women—strong, generous, and steady.

It was just a hand pie—but more than that, it was a sermon in Southern hospitality. Simple, sacred, made with the kind of care most people have forgotten how to give.

I stood at the counter that day longer than I meant to. We talked about Lowcountry fruit, the dignity of lard, and how women passed down their strength through biscuits and pies. Cheryl spoke with reverence for the women who raised her, and I found myself nodding, thinking of the women who raised me.

That hand pie changed the way I thought about Southern food. It wasn’t just survival wrapped in crust. It was history. It was an inheritance. And for me, it was the taste of home.

Savannah’s Legendary Bourbon Peach Hand Pies

Courtesy of Cheryl Day Makes 8 hand pies

Pie Ingredients

• 1 recipe Extra Flaky All-Butter Pie Crust (see recipe below)

• 12 ounces (about 2 cups) thinly sliced fresh peaches

• 1/2 cup packed light brown sugar

• 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour

• 2 tablespoons bourbon

• 1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice

• 2 teaspoons grated lemon zest

• 1/2 teaspoon ground cardamom

• 1/2 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg

• 1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt

• 1 large egg whisked with 2 teaspoons water, for the egg wash

• Turbinado sugar, for sprinkling

Directions

For the pie crust:

Remove the pie crust dough from the refrigerator and let it sit at room temperature for 10 to 15 minutes before rolling it out. Line two baking sheets with parchment. On a floured surface, roll out each disk of dough into a 10-inch square, about 1/4 inch thick. Cut each one into 4 equal squares for a total of 8 squares. Transfer 4 squares to each of the prepared baking sheets. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate while preparing the filling.

For the filling:

Place the peaches, brown sugar, flour, bourbon, lemon juice, lemon zest, cardamom, nutmeg, and salt into a medium mixing bowl and toss to combine.

Remove the dough from the refrigerator and lightly brush the edges of each square with the egg wash. Divide the filling among the squares, using a scant 1/4 cup for each, leaving a 1/2-inch border around the edges. Gently fold each square of dough over to make a triangle and press the edges with your fingers to seal; make sure the filling does not ooze out the sides. Crimp the edges of each hand pie with your fingers or a fork. Trim the edges of the hand pie with a pastry wheel to create a flaky edge.

Lightly brush the tops of the pies with the egg wash and sprinkle with the turbinado sugar. Cut 3 small slits (about 1/2-inch-long) for steam vents in the top of each pie. To set the crust, chill the pies, uncovered, for at least 30 minutes or up to 2 hours.

Position racks in the middle and lower third of the oven and preheat the oven to 400°F.

Bake the hand pies until deep golden brown, 20 to 25 minutes, rotating the pans and switching their positions halfway through.

Serve warm or at room temperature. These are best eaten the day they are made.

Pie Crust Ingredients

• 2 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour

• 1 tablespoon granulated sugar

• 1 teaspoon aluminum-free baking powder

• 1 teaspoon fine sea salt

• 1/2 cup ice water

• 1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar

• 8 ounces unsalted butter, cut into 1-inch cubes and chilled

Pie Crust Directions

Place the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt in a medium mixing bowl and whisk to combine.

Place the water and vinegar in a small mixing bowl.

Add the pieces of butter to the flour mixture and toss to coat. Work the butter into the flour using a pastry cutter or fork. You should have various-sized pieces of butter ranging from coarse sandy patches to flat shaggy pieces to pea-sized chunks, with some larger bits as well. Drizzle in about half of the ice water mixture and stir lightly with a fork until the flour is evenly moistened and the dough starts to come together. If the dough seems dry, add a little more ice water, 1 to 2 tablespoons at a time. The dough will still look a bit shaggy at this point. If you grab a small piece of dough and press it lightly with your hand, it should mostly hold together.

Dump the dough out onto an unfloured work surface and gather it together into a tight mound. Using the heel of your hand, smear the dough a little at a time, pushing it away from you and working your way down the mass of dough to create flat layers of flour and butter. Then gather the dough back together with a bench scraper, layering the clumps of dough on top of one another. Repeat the process once or twice more; the dough should still have some big pieces of butter visible.

Cut the dough in half. Shape each piece into a disk and flatten it. Wrap the disks in plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 1 hour, or overnight, to rest.

The dough can be stored, well-wrapped, for up to 3 days in the refrigerator or up to 1 month in the freezer. Thaw frozen dough in the refrigerator overnight.

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