why yes,
i'd LOVE some pie.
dudes,
i think that exact thought almost every single day of my life.
for realsies.
a good ol' all-american apple pie can transform your day.
i'm not even sayin' that as some sort of super-patriotic idiot, either.
apples keep doctors away, man.
i'm just thinking of your health, here.
c'mon.
i don't have it in me to ALWAYS make pie.
i mean, it's not lie it's pizza or anything.
seriously.
however, i am more than capable of making and enjoying pie very often.
and that in and of itself is a damned good idea.
this time around, i kept it sort of simple,
but also very sexxxy.
i like a luscious treat, kids. i cannot help myself,
and i will not pretend otherwise.
apples, and raspberries, and all that flaky, butter, pastry sorcery,
all at once, all in my big fat hungry face!
check the pie-ay-ay-type teleport:
BRAIDS!!!!!
like a dwarven lattice from the iron mountains of the north, buddy!!!
that's a lot of braiding, and overlapping, and lacing through and to and fro an' that.
also, no doubt, it's worth it-
every second of making it especially lovely makes it taste better, too.
ugly food is NOT invited,
and tasty-lookin' food tastes better.
seeming is being, or so they say.
i had seven rough-hewn peeled and cored apples simmering util softened.
and they weren't alone in the pot, either.
nope.
i had 'em stewing with 1/2 cup of dark brown sugar,
and 1/4 cup REAL maple syrup, not that corny crappy aunt ja-moppy sloppiness.
plus a dash of salt;
and a squeeze of lemon;
a splash of vanilla;
cinnamon;
and nutmeg;
and ginger;
and a cup of quick-actin' oats to soak up all the SAUCE!
when that was cooked down to a softish, but still firm, mass of manly fruit majesty,
i let it cool to room temp.
and stirred in two handfuls of frozen raspberries.
i worry that freshies will disintegrate too quickly under the strain of vigorous stirring.
the coldies have more structure, to withstand mixing nd tossing together.
i like that.
i put all of that it inside of my custom flaky pastry crust-
*
party people pastry power
-
2+ cups flour;
3 T sugar;
12 T butterish;
1 tsp vanilla;
1/4 tsp salt;
3 T creamchee';
with non-dairy milk added T at a time, to a pulsing food processor,
until it holds clumpily together, but isn't wet.
you know the drill-
wrap it, rest it, roll it, etc,
-
i have to say,
i put my lattice on a springform bottom, the size of the crust,
and laid it out, arranged and braided and crimped it together,
so i easily could slide it right on top.
it worked, and it rocked, but you know i couldn't leave it at that.
no way.
rules is rules.
that's where the leafy ridge comes into play,
and the raw sugar sprankles.
i'll also admit that i added a few more raspberries to the top, as well.
after all,
too much is the right amount, right?
hell yeah.
i baked this big baby for about 40 minutes at 410F.
maybe i could've gone hotter for shorter?
i dunno. man, it came out pretty great,
so, really,
i'll probably do it just like this again.
-
i love it when a treat works out like i'd hoped.
the firm apples, the soft berries, the crisp buttery crust.
before i even knew what was happening,
i looked down and saw a quarter of the pie was already in my body!!
ha.
it was just too smooth to slow down on.
......i might eat too much.
i can't tell.
i feel like i do-
and yet, i also feel like i could definitely still pretty easily eat a whole lot more.
good food will condemn you to gluttony.
and if you're already a savage stormswept shark-gluttonous gorge-beast?
well,
then it only gets even crazier, and more extreme from there.
*
if i've got to get home every damned day quick-fast, and in a hurry,
i'm also going to have to maxxximize those antisocial minutes
with the only friends that i have-
my dog and my stove.
it's all really happening,
and the three of us are together forever, making moves, making messes,
and making the most of a hard-styled tough situation.
the food is good,
the company is terrible,
and the stove?
well,
the stove has lived a hard life,
but she's keeping pace with crabtree and i.
it's all fire and fury, every tie, and all the time.
this is how it is, and until one of us dies, that's how it's likely to remain;
never quiet, never soft.....
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