Pie Are Square
All season I looked longingly at the apple tree that stood at the end of the property at the theatre. It's a fairly old tree, broken in the middle, and it hasn't been pruned for generations. Judging by the age of the tree and the history and location of the property it may very well be one of the original trees propagated by John Chapman. By the time I left though the fruit was still very small and green, but beginning to show signs of plumping up. In the week I've been away they've done a lot of growing, and have started turning red. I was determined to eat this fruit, one way or another. I had three of them yesterday, just eating them out of hand, but it wasn't satisfying enough.
So this morning Alison and Tom and I spent an hour or so shaking the branches of the tree, (the deer have eaten all the convenient fruit) and gathering them. We very easily ended up with a milk crate full of apples, leaving the tree still packed with ripening fruit. A peeling party commenced at the Equity housing, at one point there were 8 of us pairing, and about 2 hours later we had 6 apple pies with brown sugar crumb topping. The apples themselves were tart, and very firm, maybe just a little dry, but they made beautiful pies. As the season is winding down here at the theatre the kitchen has shifted into full left-over mode, so the pies were a huge hit with the resident company and the rest of the staff. The group of us also felt very accomplished by the baking. There's something mysterious and arcane about baking, or at least people seem to think so, but these pies were the simplest thing in the world. (We did break down and buy frozen crusts though, there's only so much I'm willing to try in a strange kitchen.) It was also a very fitting end to the season, a very communal gathering of people from several different departments to accomplish something creative, and satisfying.
So this morning Alison and Tom and I spent an hour or so shaking the branches of the tree, (the deer have eaten all the convenient fruit) and gathering them. We very easily ended up with a milk crate full of apples, leaving the tree still packed with ripening fruit. A peeling party commenced at the Equity housing, at one point there were 8 of us pairing, and about 2 hours later we had 6 apple pies with brown sugar crumb topping. The apples themselves were tart, and very firm, maybe just a little dry, but they made beautiful pies. As the season is winding down here at the theatre the kitchen has shifted into full left-over mode, so the pies were a huge hit with the resident company and the rest of the staff. The group of us also felt very accomplished by the baking. There's something mysterious and arcane about baking, or at least people seem to think so, but these pies were the simplest thing in the world. (We did break down and buy frozen crusts though, there's only so much I'm willing to try in a strange kitchen.) It was also a very fitting end to the season, a very communal gathering of people from several different departments to accomplish something creative, and satisfying.
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