I have a complicated relationship with pie. I’m firmly a cookie person, but I married a pie person, and somehow, over the past 34 years, I’ve become a reasonably competent pie baker. Not because I had any great ambition to master pastry, but because I accidentally saddled myself with a lifetime of pie-making guilt.

My husband’s mom baked him peach pies every summer. Then I accidentally destroyed the last peach pie she ever made him. Yes, there’s a story there. And yes, I still feel terrible about it.

That final summer, even though she was quite ill, she still managed to make him several peach pies. He tucked them away in our freezer, saving them to enjoy over the months ahead.

She died the following spring, and there was one peach pie left.

He couldn’t bring himself to eat it. He liked knowing it was there. Every time he opened the freezer door, he could see that last pie his mom had made for him. I completely understood.

And then I did the unthinkable.

We went away for a long weekend and I accidentally left the freezer door ajar. We came home to puddles on the floor, a very smelly freezer and, of course, a completely defrosted peach pie.

He said all the right things: “It was an accident. Don’t worry about it.” But I felt awful.

And that is how my twice-a-year pie-making tradition began. Apple crumble for his birthday in the fall, and peach—or sometimes peach and blueberry—every summer.

This summer, I decided to change things up and make Peach Hand Pies. They have everything he loves about peach pie—juicy summer peaches and flaky, buttery pastry—but in a little individual package, with my cornmeal crust and plenty of crunchy sugar on top.

After 34 years, I’m still a cookie person.

But I make a pretty damn good pie.

Keys to success for making Peach Hand Pies

• 1. Skip peeling the peaches. There’s really no need. Once baked, the skin softens and you’ll barely notice it. Plus, a little extra fibre never hurts.
• 2. Don’t overwork the pastry. Those visible bits of butter are what help create a flaky crust. When making the dough, you should still see some pea-sized pieces of butter throughout. Stop before everything looks completely smooth and uniform.
• 3. Resist the urge to overfill. More filling sounds like a good thing—until it leaks out all over the baking sheet. A scant ¼ cup of peach filling per hand pie is just right and still allows you to get a good seal around the edges.
• 4. Don’t forget the vent holes. Cut a small hole in the centre of each top crust before assembling the pies. This gives steam somewhere to escape as the peaches cook and helps prevent the inside of the pastry from becoming soggy.
• 5. Chill before baking. Once the hand pies are assembled, pop them back into the fridge to firm up the pastry before they go into the oven. Cold pastry + hot oven = a flakier crust and better-defined pies.
• 6. Check the bottoms. Don’t judge doneness by the tops alone. You want the bottom crust to be deeply golden. Pale bottoms usually mean the pastry needs a little more time in the oven.
• 7. Freeze the leftovers. These hand pies freeze beautifully, which means future you gets warm peach pie whenever the mood strikes. To reheat, place a frozen hand pie on a parchment-lined baking sheet and bake in a preheated 350°F oven for 15–20 minutes, until heated through and crisp.

After 34 years of making pies for a devoted pie lover, I’ve learned a thing or two. These peach hand pies, with their juicy filling, flaky cornmeal crust and crunchy sugar topping, might even be enough to turn this cookie person into a pie person. Almost.