Toni Award

My Italian neighbor, Tony, is a very generous sort.  In the summer I receive figs, greens, arugula, parsley, plums and asian pears.  I gratefully accept them all.

So the other day when I found a bucket of lovely assorted fruits on my front porch, I automatically thought it was Tony.  That afternoon, as I headed out on an errand, he was out front.  I quickly penned a "thank you" and put it in the bucket to return to him.  But something was off.  When I told him how much I appreciated the beautiful fruit, the colors, the smells, he looked at me rather blankly and a bit confused.  He speaks English quite well, and I was certain he understood me.  Either way, I left the bucket on his front steps.

Mother Nature's master artistry of colors and shapes:  Abundance

Two hours later, I checked email.  Toni, a dear friend who had recently moved to a small acreage with many fruit trees, was checking in with "by now you've probably found the bucket of fruit I left on your front porch."   Tony's befuddlement was now clear at least to me (he is probably still scratching his head.)  Immediate of the Things I get to do today is run across the street to Tony's and get Toni's bucket back.  Maybe Toni (Tony) means "great, big generous heart."

Yellow Transparents

It was the call I was waiting for.  Several blocks from our house stands a lovely, old, farm-style house.  In the yard an ancient Yellow Transparent Apple tree spreads it twisted branches.  I cruise local neighborhoods looking for that kind of tree.  "May I buy some of your apples?" is the line I use.  Most folks go from blank to grateful at the prospect of unloading worthless apples that become wasp attractors within a few days of falling off the tree.  The apples announce their ripeness by dropping to the ground.  Brooke was phoning to say the apples were ripe.  Come get them off the ground.  Today.  Please!

Enough Yellow Transparents to make more than a gallon of sauce

I've loved these apples all my life, not for eating from the tree, but for the delicious sauce they make, thick, tart and smooth as velvet.  My grandmother had an old tree that yielded dozens of quarts of sauce every summer.  They are ready to cook up right after the raspberries are finished.

Victorio Strainer:  a sauce makers dream
Cooked fruit goes in the top
Peelings come out the spout on the left
Sauce pours into the dish

A brief search told me that the tree is from very old Russian stalk, is exceptionally cold hardy, and tends to take every other year off to rest.  Someone's blog said they were worthless and in their area were called "throwing apples" since those folks believed the only thing they were good for was throwing at dogs and cats (that tells you more than you want to know about the whole mentality of the area).

Finished sauce, hot and ready for sugar

In our family, these apples are gold.  We love this sauce more than any other fruit sauce, so after gathering the apples at Brooke's, the next of the Things I get to do today is assemble my Victorio Strainer and make The Best apple sauce in the world.

The Apple of My Pie

Pecan pie is my favorite, but I've never made one.  Apple is the one that rolls through my kitchen more frequently than any other.  But even apple pie has made only guest appearances at our table over the last few years. The most recent five or six apple pies I've made were less than excellent, and excellent apple pie is the only kind worth eating.  You don't find them very often--seldom in a restaurant and never from the grocery store. That's not a problem for some of you, but apple pie is my husband's favorite dessert.  At least one a month might be a good number in his mind, but I, the pie maker, had sort of lost my touch.  However, as a special treat, for a special day, for my very dear and special husband, making excellent apple pie is one of the Things I get to do today.

I wanted this birthday pie to be the kind I used to make so I took my time.  The most important ingredient I finally realized was loving the process.  If I was struggling with or grumpy about the process of this creation, it wouldn't sit with delight on anyone's tongue.  Fortunately, I had just cleaned out a cupboard and unearthed my old apple peeler/slicer.   With the cheery prospect of getting to prepare the apples with this grownup toy, I was on my way to the best pie of my baking career.

I must interrupt this narrative to  sprinkle in some pie philosophy.  A pie is nothing, period, without good crust.  Don't even bother to put the filling in if there is too much water or not enough shortening in the mix.  So get that part right.*  And here is where I tell you the most important secret for out-of-this-world apple pie:  it must be a 10" not a 9" pie.  This is extremely important.  It's something about commitment and giving it enough space to make a real flavor statement.  A 9" pie is only a stammering suggestion.  It just won't do.  And don't scrimp on the cinnamon either.

Remnant scraps will be rerolled and sprinkled with cinnamon
sugar for pie crust "cookies"

Having followed all my own suggestions, I had the crust ready to be rolled.  Big decision:  do I use the fancy, modern silicone roll-it-out mat or do I find an old flour sack dish towel like the old days.  Better judgment directed me to the old dish towel.  As my hand smoothed the little mound of flour across the rough cloth to cushion the ball of pie dough for its first couple of rolls, I could feel the perfection of the process returning.  The crust was smooth and supple and cooperative.  I was in the groove, my skill refreshed.

Pure genius this toy is!

I played with the peeler and the apples until I had a little mountain of red and gold and greenish curls and a pie pan of thinly sliced apples heaped and ready for the sugar and seasoning and dots (lots) of butter.

Ready to be sprinkled with sugar, cinnamon and cardamom and
dotted with butter.  Don't scrimp with the cinnamon or butter.

The rest was easy.  Put on the "lid" crust with a few pretty slits so the sugary juices can bubble out to tell you when the pie is done.  Put it in the hot oven and wait for their signal.

    

This may look like the picture of success.  It's not.   A deliciously excellent apple pie is best shown by an empty plate with a dribble of melted vanilla ice cream on it.









*Perfect Double 10" Pie Crust

2 1/2 c King Arthur Unbleached white Flour
14 Tablespoons Shortening (use the foil wrapped pre-measured kind and just count to 14 and cut--easy)
3/4 teaspoon salt

Work the above by hand with a wire pastry blender until the mix resembles a very coarse corn meal

Add
6 Tablespoons cold water and toss lightly until evenly distributed.  Form into two equal balls.  Roll, etc. etc. etc.