It always takes me exactly 50 minutes to effect the construction of the Perfect Apple Pie. I've streamlined the process as much as possible and cannot shave another moment off the preparation time.
I always begin with the peeling, coring and slicing of apples; ten to twelve Granny Smiths, because they remain firm and tart when cooked. Thrown into a bowl of lemon-water, they can await their seasoning until after I've made the crust. It's only flour, grease and water, but it is the most essential part of the pie, I think, as I've tasted countless pies that were ruined by their greasy crusts. I do it in two batches, one crust at a time, because I get better results. One and a quarter cups of flour, one-third of a cup of shortening, one-quarter teaspoon of salt and exactly 5 tablespoons of water.
The most frustrating part, in the past, has been getting the ball of dough to roll out into a perfect circle. But I've found the secret. I always flatten the dough by hand, pressing it outwards into a circle, before using the rolling pin. Somehow, if I flatten it with the pin, it always wants to be a rectangle, no matter how hard I try to coax it into a circle.
With the bottom crust in the pie plate and the top crust awaiting me on the counter, I finally address the poor naked apples sitting in their lemon-water. Half a cup of flour, two-thirds of a cup of sugar and cinnamon to taste. I don't know exactly how much it is, I always eyeball it. With my hands messy from mixing the apples and seasonings, I pour them into the pie plate, using the last slice of apple to squeegy every last bit of juice from the bowl before popping said apple into my mouth. It's my little treat for all the work I'm doing. Then I get to lick my fingers and wash my hands, something I haven't had to do until now because of the way I've arranged the process.
Now for the finishing touches. Three pats of butter arranged neatly atop the apples, and the top crust is ready to go on. An egg-white, beaten until it no longer clings together, is lavished on the top crust and sprinkled with one teaspoon of sugar. With these touches, the top crust remains crispy and upright as the apples sink beneath it, losing their juice as they cook. Finally, a starburst pattern pierced into the crust with a fork and the pie is ready for the oven.
Fifty minutes from start to finish. It doesn't matter how fast or slow I do each part. I never seem to get any quicker at it. But I don't mind; I relish the process and anticipate the delicious results. Fifty more minutes of cooking and a beautifully Perfect Apple Pie comes out of the oven!
1 comment:
Mommy was visiting two thanksgiving pasts, and we were chatting and cooking, working together. We made the apple pie, and suddenly, she said, "Oh! Is it done already? How did we get it done so fast?" My secret is the combination apple-peeler-corer-slicer. It's a handy little gadget with no other purpose than preparing apples for pies and cobblers. The only trick is getting the apple on straight, but I always pick out even apples from the market especially because of this. Twenty minutes work, and into the oven. Might make a nice Mother's Day gift, hint, hint!
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