I don’t know why apple pie has to be so hard. Soggy bottom crust, mushy apples, unnecessary feedback from your spousal unit. It’s one betrayal after another.
This year, I dug out a recipe from the Cook’s Illustrated site, which I subscribe to. Classic Apple Pie. I was tempted to use a different crust but decided to follow the recipe exactly. Because I’m a rules-follower. I’m not always rewarded for such allegiance, but that’s how I roll.
Their recipe called for a mix of Granny Smith and McIntosh apples. I knew the McIntosh would be hard to find, so I read through the comments and saw Pink Lady or Jonagold would be good substitutes. I used Pink Lady. I hate apple pie that has the consistency of apple sauce, so getting that part right was important.
At least it was to me.
The dough was a little dry and difficult to work with. I had to patch it in places, and it was too thick in some areas, but I couldn’t get it to roll out any thinner without cracks. I will say the pie cooked beautifully and looked perfect. However, I have experience with soap opera apple pie – the bad and the beautiful – so I assumed nothing.
Dinner was exceptional. The turkey was crisp on the outside and juicy in the middle, the stuffing was savory with crusty bits and the creamy mashed potatoes were like pillows waiting to be kissed with succulent gravy love. OK, that was a little over the top, but it was damned good. We shared a bottle of Pinot Noir.
We should have just stopped there and skipped dessert. But noooooo. There would be pie.
The texture of the apples was perfect and the seasoning was divine, but the crust was unevenly cooked, and Dale said the flavor wasn’t as good as my regular crust. I focused on the positives and raved about the consistency of the apples, when Dale said it didn’t matter to him. It could be applesauce, as long as the crust was good.
WRONG ANSWER.
Why am I busting my ass finding the perfect recipe if all I have to do is scoop out some apple sauce and throw a slab of crust on top? I was in kind of a snit when I went to bed. That’s why I woke up early ruminating about what went wrong with the apple pie.
Lying there in bed, I decided first to cancel my Cook’s Illustrated subscription. Fuck them. They think they’re so smart. Then I decided I’d go back to Ina Garten’s recipe for apple crostata, except I’d use this Cook’s Illustrated filling and a different crust recipe. And I’d probably have to adjust the cooking time. I planned to spend my day gathering all the recipes and creating a new one.
Then we got up and settled in for breakfast. Honestly, I was still full, so I just started with coffee. Dale went for the apple pie. I’m like, you don’t have to eat that. You’re under no obligation. I’m prepared to toss it. And then I couldn’t stop myself. It just came out.
If you prefer, I’ll just find you some apple sauce and throw a little crust on top.
Well, in terms of responses, that was not my best choice. All he said was, “Just stop it.”
Still, I was kind of happy thinking about what it would look like as it got sucked into the garbage disposal while I watched Dale gobble it up like it was his last meal. Because I was thinking, it could well be.
He practically licked the plate and then looked up and said, “I’m not sucking up to you, but that pie was absolutely delicious.”
What? I cut myself a small piece. Just a sliver, because I see more gravy in my future. But he was right. While the crust was still a bit unevenly cooked, most of it was crisp, crumbly and yummy. Perhaps everything tastes better when you don’t eat like you’ll be visiting the vomitorium later.
I’m not canceling my subscription to Cook’s Illustrated. They are fine people, and I’m sorry I said those bad things about them. I made notes to the recipe, which I will make again, but I’ll tinker with the pastry dough or use my other go-to crust recipe.
And so another Thanksgiving comes to a close. Even after three years of being retired, it still feels like a four-day weekend. I’m looking forward to lots of leftovers. Perhaps even another piece of pie.