Being a (Step)mom Isn’t Heroic

February 1, 2018

mother and daughterI’ll never forget the first time I laid my eyes on my now husband. He’s very good looking – broad shoulders, the most sincere blue eyes you’ll ever see – and his 6’4 stature makes him even more striking. I met him at church. I was leading worship when he walked through the large, wooden chapel doors. 

What was on his shoulder? A man bag? A really large Bible carrier? I later discover that it was a diaper bag. Father of three. Yes, you read correctly. Not one, not two, but three. 

To be honest, I had never ruled out dating a man with kids. But I also had never truly thought about it either. I was a 32 divorcee and finding a good man was like “nailing jello to a tree. It just ain’t going to happen.” I remember some people saying, “Girl, you need to run.” But without hesitation, I broke all ties to anyone after meeting this man. Now, I am glad that my naivety and belief in love led the way. Our values aligned, sense of humors the same, conversation was intriguing… plus, he was so normal. That is a rarity for sure. 

Over the past almost two years, I’ve had people applaud me for taking on a man with kids. Granted, the kids are young, 7, 4, and 3. It makes it easier. No one hates me yet, and I’ve become another mother to them. 

The youngest calls me ” Mommy B.” This was something that she came up with on her own. (I secretly love it.) They feel like my own. But they didn’t always. 

I struggled with the idea of never having that “first” with my husband. He was a seasoned father and a really good one at that. It intimidated me and made me sad that we couldn’t grow and learn together. I had to grieve those childhood fantasies where life is perfect, you meet prince charming, have kids together, and so on. But who was I kidding? I wasn’t a spring chicken. It’s funny how we hold onto things from our childhood.

mother and daughterThe oldest instantly gravitated towards me the moment I met her. You’d think she would’ve been the hardest one to win over. Our same sense of humor and interests in arts and crafts sealed our relationship. We have an understanding of each other, and I see the pain she’s had to face. She knows that I “see” her, and she feels safe with me. 

The younger two were more of a challenge, and looking back, it was all because of me. I resented that my husband had kids before me. And for some reason, I couldn’t open my heart to them as easily. Therefore, they didn’t to me. Children will respond when you make the first move – moves of enjoyment, compassion and safety. (I’m a former teacher. I should’ve known this.)

The night our relationship changed was during a sixteen hour trip from Wisconsin. What the heck were we thinking taking three kids on a road trip like that? Unfortunately, they didn’t have colds, so nighttime cold medicine wasn’t an option. (Kidding!) 

It was very late, the rain was pounding the windows, and we had five more hours to go. But my then fiance couldn’t bare to drive any longer. We found the nearest hotel and called to reserve a room. I unbuckled the younger two; we rushed into the hotel and then waited for my fiance in the foyer. The youngest laid her head on my shoulder and grabbed onto me tightly.

She wanted me.

I felt wanted for the first time.

In the foyer, we all stood there waiting for “Dad.” But she kept holding onto me. She didn’t ask for him. No longer did I feel like an outsider looking in, a guest who had out-stayed her welcome.

She held on tightly as we made our way up the stairs. I tucked her into bed to get a few hours of sleep. 

In that moment, I forgot everything. The pain, resentment, immaturity all melted away. I forgot that they weren’t mine biologically.

We were a family as we rushed into the hotel, sleepy-eyed and tired.

The next morning, the younger two were more loving with me. I think it was because I provided them safety that night, love and affection without reserve. (Granted, I wasn’t a monster before. We had plenty of special times before this, but, honestly, it was always beneath a veil of sadness or resentment on my end.)

Someone told me once, “They’re just people.”

That someone was right. They’re just kids, needing their needs met, seeking validation. My heart is open now. The wall has been torn down. They know it. We all feel it.

The youngest one… Now, she’s a hero. I, the adult, should’ve opened up first. Maybe she knew that my heart was tender; maybe she knew I was hesitant; or the reality, she was just too tired to hold up her head. But she did hold tightly. And that hug, I’ll never forget. No, don’t applaud me for being a stepmom. (Ugh, I hate that title.)

I’m not a hero.

They’re just people.

And today, I’m sad not because they’re not mine biologically; not because I won’t have a “first” with my husband. Oh, we’ll have plenty of firsts! And being in a loving relationship with a soulmate is definitely a first for us both. 

I am sad because the house is quiet; the pitter-patter of their feet aren’t heard upstairs; our dog is sleeping rather than playing; and I will only cook for two tonight. 

But next week, it’s on for “Mommy B.” 

- Brittany Legvold

Photo Credit: Picture 1, Picture 2

There is a Place for the Megachurch

January 6, 2018

Entering into a megachurch is always memorable, something that’s seared into your mind – the glamorous lights, the loud but impeccable execution of the music, the enormous amount of people, rows of theatre seating, and a lot of smiling faces. I always find it fun to see what everyone is wearing as I often fail in comparison with keeping up with the trends.

If you’ve ever attended one, whether it was an one-and-done visit or you’re currently a frequenter, you remember your first experience. And of course, all of this is by design. The amount of hours and preparation that go into just one service, one Sunday is unbelievable. And my experience is just in the worship music arena.

Four years ago, I decided that I would be committed to the process of serving on the worship team at my local megachurch. And that I was. After the initial audition process, I began training one evening out of the week in stage presence and vocals. This lasted almost a year, despite my prior experience in worship. We were critiqued each week with a detailed outline of what we needed to improve upon emailed to us. From the way we moved our feet, how many times we raised or didn’t raise our hands to those weird things you do and don’t realize it. Those were always kinda comical. “Did you know that you look like you’re doing a karate chop with your left hand every time you get excited?”

I always left feeling slightly defeated and confused, but nonetheless, I was committed. (I promise, I wasn’t the karate chopper.) I often felt like the authenticity of worship was compromised, but after all, many of the services are online, at least at the main campus. So it made sense to ensure the best of the best were on stage. Once you were singing at that campus and especially leading, you had “arrived.” Everyone knew it. No one really said it.

I sang background vocals for almost two years, faithfully saying “yes” to almost every service in which I was scheduled. This meant practice on Thursday’s and Sunday’s from 6a-1p. I even cut several trips short to accommodate my busy singing obligations. I was too afraid to say “no.” The philosophy there was to say say yes – that way you could climb up the ranks, be scheduled for more. Again, no one said it quite like that. But everyone knew it.

After almost two years of this, I began “leading” worship there at the smaller campuses. I was happy to serve in whatever capacity truly.

Despite so much time put into the music area, I couldn’t seem to form community, but I also didn’t have time to commit to small groups. It can be really hard being on the inside of things. You see people for who they are or aren’t. This is true for any church, big or small. I would often ask many of the young college students, who attended ministry school there, where they wanted to do “ministry” when they graduated. Ninety-nine percent of the time they said they wanted to serve in this mega church, which I didn’t completely blame them.

I grew increasingly discontent and finally after much thought and prayer, I decided to step away.

A few things I’ve learned: 

- If you do attend a large church, get connected instantly – a small group. It’s more important to create friendships with other Christians where you can do “life” together than serving at times.

- If you serve at a large church, you may not be recognized by anyone, but God sees you, loves you, and thanks you for what you’re doing (and you have touched someone, I promise)

- When you step away from the lights and music, spend time with the Lord in an intimate and quiet place

- Don’t lose your authenticity ever – the way you worship, the way you serve is unique to you. (But don’t do weird karate hands either. Kidding!)

- If you’re ever frustrated with your church, look at yourself. Are you the problem? Where is your heart?

- If ministry is your “calling,” know that it’s not always glamorous. Was Jesus’ life full of glamor?

There is a place for megachurches, and smaller churches. And medium churches. And everything in between.

For this season, I have found a new church. I may not serve in music. I don’t know. But I do know that when I leave the front doors on Sunday, and my 70 year old friend says, “See you next Sunday” my heart flutters and then melts. And I am inspired to make a new member feel welcomed, loved, and known like she has done for me.

That is what I need for now. Find what you need and where you can honor him the best way. Look for community. It may look differently for you next year. But that’s okay.

Brittany Windle

Favorites to Follow on Instagram

August 15, 2017

It’s no surprise that Instagram is one of our favorite sources for inspiration. We’ve rounded up a list of our current favorites to follow, some of which are our very own Birmingham locals. We think they’ll inspire you, too.

@BrittanyBMassey- Brittany Massey is a freelance hair and makeup stylist and one of the cutest moms we’ve ever seen! She makes motherhood look effortlessly stylish and fun! From makeup transformations and outfit ideas to a glimpse into her family life, Brittany is one to follow.

brittany massey

brittany massey

brittany massey

@Megan_Larussa – Style coach Megan LaRussa Chenoweth is the Southeast’s top expert in “dressing for the life you desire.”  We love her Instagram filled with daily style hacks, confidence tips, and more. Be sure to check out her Back-to-School shoppable guide for every mom!

megan larussa


megan larussa Create Outfits Effortlessly-5

@StudioMcGee – We love this husband-wife owned interior design studio and online store. If you like pretty pictures of dream interiors, then follow this duo for inspiring decorating ideas and video tips, too.

studio mcgee studio mcgee

studio mcgee

Tiny Weddings Bham

July 26, 2017

Tiny Weddings Bham

The lyrics of that Bryan Holland song keep ringing in my ear: “Itsy, bitsy, teenie weenie, yellow polka dot bikini.” I probably just like the rhyme and the use of “itsy bitsy.”  But let’s be honest, anything small is just so darn cute –  puppies, micro houses, and Frank Underwood’s civil war miniatures. (Anyone else a House of Cards fan?)  There is something so fascinating about the time and attention it takes to add detail to small things – special and delicately handled.

Tiny Weddings Bham is just that – small, of course, but handled with the utmost care by a team of the best in Birmingham. So what is it exactly? As they call it, Tiny Weddings Bham is a “pop-up wedding” or “styled elopement.” They handle the detail; you just show up. And most of all, the cost is tiny. The price generally ranges from $3,500-$4,500 depending on the venue. This is a huge price difference with the average cost of a wedding in Birmingham at $30,000.

Tiny Weddings Bham

Tiny Weddings Bham

Tiny Weddings Bham Tiny Weddings Bham Tiny Weddings Bham

“We believe in memories and moments and all the tiny unforgettable things that happen in between. We believe in love and that starting your life together does not have to be complicated- but is worth celebrating and marking in a special way.”

Tiny Weddings Bham Tiny Weddings Bham Tiny Weddings Bham

Tiny Weddings Bham Tiny Weddings Bham

Anny Marie Leveille, experienced wedding planner and coordinator, brought this concept to Birmingham. She and a team of vendors do it all. All you need is a killer outfit and groom (and up to 20 guests if you choose). They announce the date of the next pop-up wedding; you submit your story, and then choose your time.

The list of vendors that TWB has worked with are some of the best: The Nest, an historic Avondale space – think rustic and modern with the coolest wall as a backdrop for photos; Gold Leaf Floral; Photos by Heart; Tres Beau Weddings; and Swan Lindsey Lettering, custom invitations. (Yes, please!).

The next pop-up wedding is Oct. 22 at the Clubhouse on Highland. Visit the TWB for more detail.

Brittany Windle

Style File: Botanical Prints

July 21, 2017

Who doesn’t love an art gallery wall? If you have a large wall space, then a gallery is the perfect way to fill your spot. Personally, I now lean toward designs with symmetry. I love the look of a gallery with same size frames. It gives a sophisticated and clean look even with multiple pieces of varying art. (And I absolutely swoon over floor to ceiling galleries.) Recently, I wondered what I was going to do with the set of six frames with matting I had purchased. I remembered how much I adored botanical prints and even found several printables for free. Granted, they’re not the real deal vintage print, but it sure to does bring life to my wall now.

These free printables by A Daily Something are what I used for my wall. But with a simple Google search, you’ll find that a botanical gallery is just one click and print away. For larger or vintage prints, Etsy is great source.



Here’s some inspiration for your next weekend project.

botanical print

Free printable for this set at




botanical prints


botanical prints

botanical prints

Real Religion

July 9, 2017

 Photo credit: Ismael Burciaga

It wasn’t until the fourth or fifth day of feeling deathly ill that I decided to pray. Deathly ill is a bit exaggerated, but I was sick for over a week with strep throat. “They” say it hits adults harder than children, and I believe that now. Alone in my apartment trying not to get anyone infected, I prayed. And I prayed hard.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t remember the last time that I had prayed.

But I do remember the first time. I was an innocent eight year old girl, holding the Sunday School teacher’s hand as I “asked Jesus into my heart” – what the Baptists call being saved. Prayer became second nature to me and so did doing right.

Church and singing became my life. Every Sunday morning, Sunday night and Wednesday night the doors opened, I was there along with my two sisters and faithful mother. Alone in my bedroom with my initialed Bible, I often prayed for my father who didn’t attend with us.

Over the short twenty-seven years of my life, my faith has evolved. It (faith) has always been a part of my life, not just a small part but a large part. Growing up in a Southern Baptist church, the issue of right and wrong was pounded heavily in my head. In high school, I attended a charismatic church and always was the lead star on the praise team. We were preached to about sin until our faces turned blue and slathered with oil at the altar when in time of prayer. They viewed prayer as powerful and life changing and so did I.

As a college student, I discovered a new found freedom, questioned my faith and rarely attended church. Along the way, God always pulled me into his arms whether through a friend or song heard on the radio. Often prayers were spoken in times of stress and guilt.

My eclectic background had me confused. My faith in God became more about appearance and doing right. How to overcome temptation and live in a real world was not something I had been equipped to do. But I knew the right words to say, the perfect flowery words to pray.

As the years have passed on, I have faced reality in more ways than one- through the loss of close loved ones, loss of jobs and the end of a marriage- my heart has been bumped, pushed, torn and broken and sometimes all at the same time.

Living for the Lord stopped being about what others expected of me. It stopped being about doing what others thought was right and stopped being about praying what the preacher taught me to pray.

Many times it feels like there is a label on my forehead that reads “failure.” I’m not the perfect example of Christian that I once claimed and others thought of me. I’ve made mistakes, big mistakes and often appeared as just another face in the crowd.

I’ve learned to pray differently — from a heart that knows I’m nothing without him. I’ve learned to pray without fancy words. I’m appreciative that I have a mother that made sure I was in church and a grandmother that prayed for me daily and often recited Psalm 23 as she drove me to daycare. I’m appreciative that I experienced eclectic styles of worship. But I have found what works for me.

I’m reminded of the song that I once sang as a child, “Jesus loves me this I know for the Bible tells me so.” My faith is simple and so is my prayer life. I know who He is based on my own experiences. From that I pray. It may not be a pretty prayer- just me, raw and transparent.

Brittany Windle

Photography credit: Ismael Burciaga

The “R” Word

June 20, 2017


“Rain, rain, go away. Come again some other day,” this song rings loudly in every bride’s ears on her wedding day. Unfortunately, avoiding this word will not make the dark clouds hide and the sun appear.

Becca Bell, owner of 2b Photography, says, “Some of the most beautiful and creative images come from getting scrappy and being resourceful when faced with the challenges of the day.”

On her blog, she provides five tips to help lessen the anxiety of rain on your wedding day. I had the privilege of helping her style Part 2 of this series. With the use of stylish umbrellas and cute rain boots, there may just be a silver lining when it comes to a bride’s worst nightmare.











2b 2b


To see the complete gallery of photos, click here.

Brittany Windle

Photo Credit: Becca Bell of 2b Photography 

Lessons from Hiding Your Crazy

April 4, 2017

We’ve all been there. Crazy. Insane. Mental. Someone has hurt us and we want revenge. We want them to feel the pain, the heartache, the distress they caused us. But what happens if we act on our natural human response to get even? What comes of it? What benefits do we truly gain? Maybe an eye for an eye isn’t the solution. Maybe living out a Lifetime movie isn’t the answer. As Miranda Lambert’s song “Mama’s Broken Heart” says, “hide your crazy and start acting like a lady.”

Society is full of bad advice- really bad advice. As someone who has lived through utter destruction because of others’ actions, I can testify that taking the high road isn’t easy but so worth it. Being the bigger person can truly help heal and teach us things we never knew about ourselves; it can help save us from further damage.

1. You keep your integrity. When we stoop to the level of the one who betrayed us, we can often hurt ourselves. We can lose the respect of others, cause people to question our morals and dignity. When you choose to keep your mouth shut and your actions calm, you win. You don’t give that person the satisfaction of getting the best of you. You can keep your reputation; you can hold fast onto your personal integrity.

2.You gain peace. Anxiety can often ensue when we seek out to destroy others. Being wrapped up in anger and uncontrolled emotions, you will find that it can and will consume you. When you choose to let it go (forgive), there’s a peace that takes its place. Peace allows us to keep our sanity, our normalcy and our health.

3. You earn respect. People watch your actions whether you know it or not. People will watch how you handle things especially adversity. When I chose to take the high road, many people confronted me and told me how much respect they had for me because I was doing something most people wouldn’t or couldn’t. This made me feel good. It helped me rise above and motivated me to continuing to do the right thing. Respect is everything and by choosing to handle a disastrous situation with dignity, people will see it. People will be inspired.

4. You grow. I’ve never been more proud of myself-I learned that I had self-discipline like I never thought I had. I grew as a person learning to control my actions, learning the journey of forgiveness, and learning that I was a strong woman who deserved more. I was able to mentor others and through giving advice that counters society’s, I was able to help other women make better decisions-not for the person who hurt them, but for themselves.

5. You become worthy of grace. We all make mistakes. Heck, we may have hurt others and caused pain and when we came to the point where we needed mercy and grace, did we receive it as we had hoped for? Have you ever needed forgiveness so desperately in order to heal and move forward? Who are we to deny the same? When we extend forgiveness, we can then be worthy of receiving forgiveness for our transgressions. When we selflessly show grace, we then become worthy of being given grace. You reap what you sow.

Maybe if more people chose to not act on all thoughts, practice self-control and forgive, the world would be a more peaceful place. Maybe instead of seeking revenge and destruction, we seek to love beyond what is deserved. We choose to better ourselves and positively influence others. So, the next time your blood pressure is rising and your inner psycho starts acting a fool, stop, breathe and chill.

Act like a lady. Keep it together. Remember what your momma told ya. If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say it at all. And we all know momma knows best. Sweetheart, just hide your crazy.


Brynlea Taylor

Brynlea lives in Texas and is a southern Bama girl at heart. At 32, she has had the opportunity to be blessed with two callings in her life transitioning from 8 years of teaching middle school and high school to a life in fashion and retail management. Brynlea believes that style is truly forever and can only be successful when personalized and true to who a woman is (or who she wants to be for
the day).  Class and modesty go a long way. Valuing family, faith, friends, fitness (and football), Brynlea sets out to sprinkle exclamations marks everywhere she goes!

Instagram: @stylishly_strong

Silencing the Noise

January 26, 2017

modernlace6th grade-  Oh, the beauty of body odor and Axe, discovering the opposite sex, and figuring out what true friendship is. I am thankful for my 30′s, being comfortable in my own skin, which took way too long, and above all not dealing with hormonal boys.

I actually can’t imagine being in 6th grade in the year 2017. Social media and text are simply a way of life for teenagers. A “like” on a photo means someone is interested in you and phone calls and talking face to face have been replaced with text (I’m guilty of texting more than calling). When I taught high schoolers, my students often discussed their social anxiety due to only being connected digitally. Thankfully, I grew up where text and social media were just on the cusp of popularity. Dating was still traditional, and phone calls were expected. Engagements were either announced through the newspaper or people found out when they saw the ring.

I like the authenticity of having moments like that. Privacy was valued – your dinner was not published on Instagram, and you didn’t create photo opportunities to make your life look… Well, perfect. Perfection is the new standard. And I’m exhausted just thinking about that.

What a noisy life this snowballs into- and all for what? To be “adored” by many? Why are we so comfortable with trading reality with the perception of reality? And why is there such a need to share every facet of our lives as if we didn’t post it, it never happened?

One of my friends sent me a screenshot of a girl who posted a picture of herself, and the caption read: “Finally, I got my name changed back. It only took three months, but finally it’s done.” Apparently, that meant she had gone through yet another divorce. I could’ve cared less. Actually, I don’t even know this girl, never have had a conversation. I know her business now. I know that that was husband #3. Because I’ve been through the mill myself, I had no judgment at all. Actually, I loved that she had absolutely no shame. But just like my friend judged and sent me the picture, I bet many people did as well. Most of the time we give the ammo for people to fire shots at us.

This had me thinking: How much noise, distraction, and judgment could we eliminate if we just logged out and valued privacy?

A student’s mom posted on Facebook recently, “Yes, I did withdraw my daughter from school. If you have a problem with it, then ask me and not her.” Half of her “friends” probably had not the slightest clue that her daughter withdrew, but now everyone did. What this creates is chaos, unneeded advice, opinions, discussion or even arguing. She was literally asking for people to create this for her.

My church was recently challenged to stay off all forms of social media for a week. I had already deleted my Instagram app because it’s a deep dark hole that I have a hard time seeing my way out of. I catch myself logging on out of boredom and then clicking from one picture and person to the next- filling my mind with a perception of their reality. While most of the things I came across were not negative at all, I realized that perfection on display is negative. Staged photo shoots and filtered images often left my mind foggy – not seeing clearly at all what the reality was. This creates noise in my mind.

I long for more simplicity. Heck, I’d go live on a farm somewhere in Iowa if the oppporutiny was given.

But for now I have to determine how I can clear my mind, what simplicity looks like for me. We all know a little too much about the lives of people we don’t even know. I’m not sure if this is healthy, at least for me it’s not.

Have you ever thought about logging out indefinitely?

Brittany Windle

I think I’m still on Twitter. You can find me there.

photo credit: 2b Photography, exclusively for Modern Lace.

Sweet Southern Roots

November 18, 2016

Luv Cooks

Pumpkin-Steelcut-Oat-Cookies-021-684x1024 (1)

Pumpkin Oatmeal Cookies from the kitchen of Callie Blount of Luv Cooks – see recipe at bottom.


Growing up in the Deep South, I was surrounded by great food. It was and still is at the center of all family gatherings.  My sisters and I had the privilege of eating fresh vegetables from the garden almost every meal. We always ate buffet style: Squash, okra, green beans, and collards colorfully decorated the stove top. Of course, at least one of them was hand-battered and fried in my dad’s secret recipe. I never realized how special it was until I didn’t have it everyday. (Ahh, adulthood!) The thought of starting a garden is daunting.

However, I haven’t always valued the things that have signified my Southern roots. I’ll never forget the first time I was taunted for my accent. I tried desperately in college to change it. Around certain people, I would talk less and softer just to avoid being called out. I hated it. I’ve since then managed to pronounce certain words correctly, but my vowels are still slow and long and Southern as sweet tea. People point it out occasionally.

And then it was my small town I grew up in that I never wanted to admit I was from. I’ve always lived by the mantra, “Just because you’re from a small town doesn’t mean you’re small minded.” I didn’t want to be stereotyped by a classist. I’m intrigued by other cultures and consider myself to have a broad worldview. I used to cringe when someone asked the question, “Where are you from?”

My town is infamous for landmarks like The Booby Trap and the Carrie Lawson case where theorists claim her body was dumped in the depth of Smith Lake. Apparently, that’s where all bodies are cast, probably by the hitman that you can hire for just a case of beer. (Seriously, this is a known fact.) Most recently, we became famous when National Geographic aired a special about the “Sipsey Wilderness Creature.” The hour long docuseries is of a man recalling his experience with an animal that is as closely related to Big Foot as you could find. Walker County doesn’t exactly have the best reputation.

Luv Cooks

The Spicy Chocolate Sweetie- Pie from Laura Chancey of Humble Pie- scroll down for recipe.

But what I see when I think of my childhood is my cousin and I crafting mud pies and topping them off with wild flowers; playing hours outside until dark; leaping from hay bale to hay bale with my sisters; sneaking vanilla wafers from my great grandmother’s cookie jar; and my dad making us pick vegetables from the garden in the sweltering summer heat. (Have you ever “looked” peas? It’s pretty dreadful!)

Goodness, I wouldn’t trade that for the world.

My childhood home sits beautifully in a large field and the cows peacefully in the neighboring farm.

No, I wouldn’t trade that for the world.

I see that now, and I’m not so ashamed of my Southern drawl. I’m still going to say “y’all.” It’s a part of me, and, apparently, it’s not going anywhere no matter how hard I try. And as for my small town, I’m not sure I’d be who I am without it. I wouldn’t value simplicity or relish in the small things.

This Thanksgiving, I’m going to attempt to make my great aunt’s fried apple pies, not just because they are mouth watering good. But rather, because they symbolize tradition, love and hard work – treasures I want to preserve.

I’m thankful for my Southern roots. That may be the first time I’ve ever said that.


In honor of Thanksgiving, tradition, and family, I thought I’d share with you two recipes from two sweet Southern women, Callie Blount of Luv Cooks and Laura Chancey from Humble Pie. They both formed their love for cooking at an early age while learning and watching their grandmothers in the kitchen.

For the Pumpkin Oatmeal Cookies above, click here. See below for Laura’s Spicy Chocolate Sweetie-Pie.

Pie Shot #1 Pie Shot #2 Pie Shot #3


Chocolate Pie Dough

What You Will Need

- 1 cup all purpose flour
- 1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa flour
- 1/2 tsp salt
- 1 tbsp sugar
- 1/2 cup (1 stick) cold butter
- 1/2 cup ice plus 1/2 cup water to make super cold ice water

What You Will Do

1. Whisk the first 4 ingredients together, then with a pastry knife cut the butter into the flour mix until it resembles small pebbles.
2. Add ice water a tablespoon at a time, using a wooden spoon to incorporate it in.
3. When the mixture starts to resemble dough, form a ball with your hands and wrap in plastic wrap. Refrigerate for at least 1 hour (or if you’re impatient, like me, freeze for at least 30 minutes.)
Note: When you’re ready to begin making the pie, roll the dough out first, put it into the baking dish, poke the bottom with a fork about 10-15 times, and then stick the dish in the freezer until your filling is ready.


For full recipe and the story behind Laura and Humble Pie, click here.

Brittany Windle