Haven’t posted in a while, ergo, vis-a-vis, a pretty damn long post:
“Every sweet has its sour.”
~Ralph Waldo Emerson
On most weekends I try to be filial and come home to my sisters house in Leesburg (Northern Virginia) and be with the familia and show my parents that I’m doing well in Maryland and eating well, and of the like. As it should be, I enjoy the times when I come home because I get to play with the nerdlets and eat some good o’l fashion Chinese grub. And the one thing that always puts a smile on my face, and I’m sure those with FOB parents are familiar with this too, is that my parents are always exclaiming how I’m “getting too thin” or “need to eat more” and what not. I absolutely love it, because I’m essentially a disposer when it comes to eating, which fills me up with a greater sense of joy and personal triumph than before when they say such things; but that’s just me. At any rate, every Sunday when I leave to come back to Maryland, momsters and father unit just love packing up enough food that could benefit the salvation army, just for yours truly. I mean I love food, I have several food affairs even, but sometimes there’s just too much, which is crazy for me to say because there can never be enough! So I’m always getting these sacks of apples and just last week I got another; I barely opened the one from the previous week! So essentially with no room in the refrigerator, I had to think of a plan on how to get rid of the damn things in one fell swoop. The answer was so simple, it was easy as pie – literally (okay don’t hate me for that, that was the only chance I had to use that stupid phrase for once efficiently).
So how is it done, this pie? It really takes only a handful of simple ingredients. I won’t get too much into the details, but I basically peeled (I actually had my friend Roshan do this for me) and sliced up about 8 apples – whatever ones you like to eat, threw in about 2 and half table spoons of cinnamon, about a quarter stick of butter, about a table spoon and a half of nutmeg, and finally enough sugar and sweets in the mix to make even a WWF wrestler blush. I will tell you that the key to keeping this filling good when baking it is to throw in some flower (about 5 table spoons) so that the juices from the apples and melted butter will thicken, otherwise you’re left with some soupy mixture on the inside.
Here’s another hint: Make your own crust. It’s easy as…alright I won’t say it again, but it really is simple. Just take about 3 cups of flour, about 3/4 stick of butter, 6 table spoons of sugar and half a teaspoon of salt. Add just only enough water so that the dry/buttery mix all begins to stick together. Then bring out the rolling pin (or a glass cup if you’re cheap like me) and roll half of your dough mix into a nice flat round and cover the bottom of the pie pan. Then throw your apple pie mix into the thing and flatten out the other half of the dough mix and place over the apple filling, poke some holes, and bake the damn thing in the oven at about 430 degrees for a good 40-50 minutes.
Mine came out pretty well I’d say. Tweaked it a bit though – adding more sugar and some cinnamon into the dough mix which results in a flavorgasmic pie crust. It came out looking a bit funky, but tasted quite well – evidence being that my room mates crushed a good half of it before I could even attempt to get a second helping (never got it – but my friends enjoyed it though).
But I was quite happy with myself as this was my first pie ever. This weekend I told my success to my family and I basically attempted to wing a second pie. It came out pretty well again, this time I only had brown sugar which was fine too. I believe they were quite impressed, probably from the sheer fact that a punk like me pull off a pie from scratch (really!). But they liked it, and that was the more important aspect of it all – the fact that I made something to eat that tasted good, was enjoyable to eat, and had put a smile on a few faces. That’s the biggest incentive I get out of cooking, and it’s like how Tony Bourdain describes it, cooking is the pleasure business.
I’ll keep this short and simple. I can’t stand it when I let someone down, for large or small dilemmas. A bit passive of me? But of course it is, and that’s one shitty vice.