A Crusty Adventure

One more adventure of the day: apple pie. I bought some canned filling in the store several weeks ago, because it inspired me. (Yes, I AM a “Feeling” in my ISFP Meyers-Briggs personality profile). Maybe it reminded me of “Mom and apple pie.” But I have always been intimidated by making a crust for it, which is why I have waited so long to use it. My name is not Elisa Fisher, or any Fisher for that matter, or even Alex Hirata, the SM downstairs who is always bringing up pies to put in our oven (the boys’ oven doesn’t work). Nevertheless, with the help of the internet, I found a recipe. That was REE-DICULOUS. Who knew pie-crust was so stinking complicated? Cut up the butter in half-inch cubes, put it in the freezer, add ice cold water one table spoon at a time…are you kidding me?! By the time I got to the part about wrapping it in plastic and putting it in the fridge for two hours to two days—two days being preferable—I gave up. I pulled my silly-putty pie-crust dough out of the bowl and just started mashing it into a pie pan in buttery globs, laughing all the way. Take THAT, Martha Stewart! I’m baking an apple pie in YAP, and I don’t CARE about your dumb, flaky, delicious crust. Not that it was a Martha Stewart recipe, but she’s the only one I can think of to attack, since I can’t attack my friends who have amazing culinary skills. Anyway, I even attempted a few strips on top with some remaining dough, but it’s not the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen. However, the timer just went off, and I’m about to go survey the results. Whatever they are, we’re eating it tomorrow night. Walking backward in the typhoon. Barefoot. With lice. And we are THANKFUL.