MA BOWIE CONTINUES MAKING FAMOUS PIES   There isn't a hint of conceit in what she says. As the local people know well, it is as true today as it was 91 years ago when she was born: Elizabeth Washington Bowie is first-class people. "That," the Oak Grove woman explained, "is what they call you when you're kin to George Washington." Hers is indeed good blood, which, she noted, is bolstered by her relationship to the Wirts. The Wirts? "Well, you know, they had a beautiful home," Mrs. Bowie said, as if that explained it all. But she is right. The Wirts would also have to be considered first-class people, by association, if nothing else. William Wirt was Washington's attorney general. His sons settled in the Oak Grove area in the mid-1800s. Ambitious builders, the Wirts influenced the architecture of Westmoreland County with their Gothic revival mansions, which are now historic landmarks. It is not, however, her lineage that has made her famous. It is her coconut creme pies and her crab cakes that have made her a name not to be denied on this two-lane stretch of state Route 3 between Montross and Fredricksburg. Here, she's known simply as Ma Bowie, although some have taken to calling her Grandma. The familiarity suits her, for this first-class person has always been a working lady, too, who has catered to the stomachs of area residents for more than 50 years. It was in the early 1930s when she opened her first lunchroom in a combination car dealership/filling station in Oak Grove. The dealership belonged to her uncle. His was a small operation. There was only one car in the showroom at a time. Invariably, she got more business than he did. "I had a couple of tables in there and an oil burner stove," Mrs. Bowie recalled. "Mostly I got traveling salesmen and a few local people. And there was many a night when I didn't make it home. I'd just get in the back seat of that car and go to sleep." Her produce came from the orchard and garden behind her home. There were fresh blackberries, apples, peaches, pears, plums and grapes. The Potomac River and its tributaries supplied her with fish, which she caught by hook and line using crab or shrimp for bait. There were chickens that she raised and slaughtered. "First, you'd throw a little corn out, and then you'd grab them," Mrs. Bowie said. "You'd hold on to their feet and whack their heads off on the block. And you had to be real careful because they'd scratch you every now and then." They were hard years for a career woman with little help and encouragement. In the beginning, even her late husband opposed her decision to work. "He thought I should stay home and raise chickens and children," she said. She did that, too, and bore him six children, one of whom now runs Bowie's Restaurant in Oak Grove. Between children, Mrs. Bowie ran three other restaurants of her own. Although each was special in its own right, she counts the one she operated in Colonial Beach during the late 1930s as the most enjoyable. Called Locust Garden, the restaurant overlooked the Potomac and was on the town pier. They were bustling times, made busy by the trade coming from the steamboats that plied the Chesapeake Bay. "Oh, Lord, but those were good old days," Mrs. Bowie said. "There was always somebody coming in and they always enjoyed our country-cooked food." Out-of-towners frequently would spend the night in a back room off the restaurant. Mrs. Bowie kept a couple of cots there and those who wanted to stay would sleep in shifts. Although times have changed, her food hasn't. It is simple fare, time- honored favorites such as bread pudding and apple pie. It's what her "regulars" at Bowie's Restaurant request most. "Her pies melt in your mouth," said Celia Seward, a regular. "Her crusts don't fall apart. I don't know what she does that I do wrong, but she's just the best." Rising at 6:30 a.m., Mrs. Bowie makes an average of six pies a day. Her secret, she said, is in the ingredients. "Butter," she said. "Real butter. That's what makes the difference." The work, she believes, has kept her healthy. She has no pains, no aches. She does concede that she has slowed down a bit. Last year, she gave up her field work. Bending over to pick the vegetables was making her dizzy. Some of her regulars, however, were recently marveling at how good she looks for her age. She doesn't credit it to her blood. There are, she said, other first-class people who haven't weathered as well. Clearly, it's something else. "It's the rouge and powder," she confided before ordering a Miller High Life from the bar.

Family Pies