For as long as I can remember, my grandma would make pasties every winter. We would get our supply every Christmas. My grandma passed away over 2 years ago. My mom and I decided that this year, we were going to carry on her tradition.
Friday morning at 8:00 the process began. We chopped and diced until our arms hurt. When it was time for the crust. We hit a minor road block and might have used a few curse words. Then we got the giggles. Finally we figured out the right mix of flour, shortening and water to be able to roll it out without the crust being an inch thick.