I love pie. But as they say on Top Chef, I’m a cook, not a pastry chef.
My grandfather lived with us growing up and one of the few things that he’d make in the kitchen (aside from amazing home fried potato chips) was apple pie. I’d sit and watch him roll out dough, mix the spices and peel and core the apples all by hand. The smell that comes when apples, cinnamon and heat come together would permeate the entire house as only those ingredients together can. And god was it good.
That’s not to say my father, when so inclined couldn’t put together a fantastic pie himself; it’s just that my Grandpa’s was the first, and will always be the best pie I’ll ever eat in my life.
So today I set to bake my very own apple pie from scratch. Aside from a few false starts with the pastry and a crust that turned the whole thing into more of an apple crumble than a pie it tasted fantastic.
I also have a much greater respect for those bakers that spend their days churning out pie after pie after pie. I’m sure your pastry skills bet better over time, and that my next pie crust will improve. But I’d say all in all it wasn’t half bad for never having baked anything before in my life.
And thanks to my lovely daughter Audrey for helping out and only wrecking the dough once.