• apple crumb pie

    We’re gearing up for the Thankfully long weekend holiday. Our family is heading to Chattanooga where we have big plans to run the Turkey Gobbler race on Thanksgiving morning and drink whiskey slushies in the evening. I spent yesterday cooking my contributions to the weekend: French chocolate granola, the various components for two apple crumb pies (to be assembled and baked there), plain granola, and caramel popcorn. By evening I felt sickish from too many tastes. 

    About those apple crumb pies. I’ve always been a sucker for a two-crust apple pie—up until now, it’s been my standby. But a few weeks ago I decided I simply must have an apple crumb pie. Not having one in my repertoire felt like a moral shortcoming of unforgivable proportions. After a bit of digging around, I settled on this recipe. (I’m not sure where it is from. Perhaps Epicurious? Do forgive.)

    What’s delightful about this topping is that the crumbs don’t melt into a lid of slimy sog. Perhaps this is because the topping calls for lots of nuts which help the topping hold up against the satiny apples and crispy-golden pastry. At first, some of my kids turned up their noses about the nuts, but I kept making the pies (I think I’ve made about six so far) and eventually they got over their silly hang-ups.

    I never thought I would say this about a pie, but I actually think this one is better after it sits for a day or so. It gets deeper, or something. More luscious, but in a comforting sort of way. In other words, make two. Apple pie makes an excellent breakfast.

    Apple Crumb Pie 

    I always make two pies at time, so I double the crumb topping. Even if you’re only making one pie, I recommend doubling the crumbs. They freeze well, and then your next pie is that much closer to becoming a reality.

    To measure your apples, slice them into the empty pie plate. The apples will cook down in the oven, so the raw apples ought to mound up high above the plate. Once you have enough apples, dump the slices into a bowl, rinse and dry the pie plate, and proceed with the recipe.

    for the pastry:
    ½ recipe rich butter pastry

    Line a 9 or 10-inch pie plate with the pastry and crimp the edges. Place the lined pie plate in the fridge while readying the remaining components.

    for the filling:
    5-8 large apples, cored, peeled, and sliced
    ½ to ¾ cup white sugar
    2-3 tablespoons flour
    1 slightly rounded teaspoon cinnamon
    1/8 teaspoon cloves

    Stir together the flour, sugar, and spices before tossing with the apples. Arrange the apples into the pastry-lined pie plate. Pack them in—you want to eliminate air pockets and mound the apples high. 

    for the crumb topping:
    ½ cup all-purpose flour
    ¼ cup whole wheat pastry flour
    ½ cup sugar
    ¼ cup brown sugar
    ¾ cup chopped walnuts
    6 tablespoons butter
    ¼ teaspoon salt

    Using your fingers, cut the butter into the other ingredients. Distribute the crumbs over the apples (don’t pack them).

    Bake the pie on the lowest oven rack (to make sure the bottom crust browns) at 375 degrees for about 20 minutes before reducing the temperature to 350 degrees and baking for another 20-30 minutes. If the crust starts to get too brown, cover the top with foil. The pie is done when it is golden brown all over and the juices are bubbling merrily. (Merrily bubbling juices are important. If the juices don’t bubble, then the flour in the filling won’t cook and the pie will taste floury.) When you first pull the pie from the oven, it will be puffy high, but as it cools, the apples will settle and sink.

    This same time, years previous: apple raisin bran muffins, how to use up Thanksgiving leftovers in 10 easy steps, sock curls, candid crazy, a Thanksgiving walk, ushering in the fun, right now, pasta with creamy pumpkin sauce, apple rum cakechocolate pots de crème, and pumpkin pie.

  • spiced applesauce cake with caramel glaze

    The evening Molly posted this recipe for applesauce cake, I had to talk myself out of starting a baking project at bedtime.

    I’m not exactly sure why I was so completely smitten. I already have an applesauce cake on this blog. Plus, applesauce cake isn’t the most thrilling-sounding recipe. It reminds me more of a practical-scuffed-up-shoes cake than a flashy-fancy-heels cake, and I’ve always had this (perhaps unfounded) assumption that cake ought always be a flashy heels sort of venture. But this recipe disregarded my uptight notions, wiggled into my brain with an upturned kettle and a wooden spoon, and started pounding away on the kettle while screeching, Make me! Make me!

    By the next morning, my intense desire for applesauce cake RIGHT NOW had not waned in the least, so I made it. I had a piece with my coffee after lunch. I thought it delicious, but my husband was all like, Yeah it’s fine. It doesn’t taste like much, though. I decided he was being obtuse and that his opinion didn’t count.

    About an hour later, I covered the cake with plastic wrap and drove over to my parents’ house where they were (again) in the midst of hosting out-of-town guests that I, too (again), wanted to visit. When I arrived, everyone was still gathered around the table. My mother placed the cake on the table beside the partially-eaten lemon poppy seed cake, and set about brewing another pot of coffee.

    “There’s a secret ingredient in this cake,” I said. “See if you can guess.”

    Out of curiosity and politeness (because it certainly wasn’t hunger), they all helped themselves to small slivers. Some of them started guessing ingredients before they even tasted the cake. I forget who guessed black pepper, but winning ended up being kind of underwhelming. The exotic bite from the pepper is so gentle that it went unnoticed by some.

    But the icing, now. That’s what got their attention. Soon they were all reaching for the knife to cut another slice. And then the coffee was ready and of course you must have another slice to go with your coffee…

    By the time I was ready to leave, there was just a small piece of cake left on the plate. Back home, I divided it among the kids. Less than six hours after I had first cut into it, the cake was gone, gone, gone.

    I made the cake again, just the other day. This time I swapped half of the white flour for whole wheat, and I used a heavy hand when grinding in the pepper. Right after I pulled the cake from the oven, we had to leave for a church supper, so I didn’t get around to making the icing. And then later that night, after we tucked the kids into bed, I didn’t feel like making the icing. Anyway, it was the soft, spicy cake that was calling my name. Turns out, I loved the cake plain.

    The next morning I served it for breakfast along with oatmeal and fresh fruit. My husband packed some in his lunch (he reported it was good and was surprised to learn it was the same cake as the first one he didn’t like!), and that afternoon I doled out the remaining pieces to the children for their snack. Wouldn’t you know, less than 24 hours after making the cake, it was gone. Funny how that happens.
     

    Spiced Applesauce Cake with Caramel Glaze
    Adapted from Molly Wizenberg’s blog Orangette.

    The glaze is similar to this brown sugar icing, but this version has less butter and brown sugar, and more cream. It is really good.

    for the cake:
    2 eggs
    1 cup sugar
    ½ cup dark brown sugar
    2/3 cup oil
    1½ cups applesauce
    1 teaspoon vanilla
    1 cup flour
    1 cup whole wheat pastry flour
    1½ teaspoons baking soda
    1 teaspoon salt
    2 teaspoons cinnamon
    1 teaspoon ginger
    ¼ teaspoon nutmeg
    ¼ ample teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

    Beat together the eggs and sugars. Beat in the oil, applesauce, and vanilla.

    In a separate bowl, mix together the dry ingredients. Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and stir to combine.

    Pour the cake batter into a greased baking pan. (Molly used a bundt pan or loaf pans; I used a springform pan, greased and lined with parchment paper.) Bake at 350 degrees for 40-45 minutes or until the cake is pulling away from the sides of the pan and a toothpick inserted in the middle comes out clean. Cool to room temperature. (If turning the cake out of its pan, allow it to cool for just ten minutes before doing so.)

    for the glaze:
    4 tablespoons butter
    ½ cup brown sugar
    1/3 cup cream
    ¼ teaspoon salt
    ¾ cup confectioner’s sugar

    Combine all the ingredients but the confectioner’s sugar in a pan and set over medium high heat. Bring it to a boil, stirring constantly, and let it boil for one minute. Remove from the heat and stir in the confectioner’s sugar. Let it rest for a few minutes to thicken before pouring over the cooled cake.

    This same time, years previous: the quotidian (11.17.14), in my kitchen: noon, lessons from a shopping trip, the quotidian (11.18.13), the quotidian (11.18.12), red lentil soup with lemon and spinach, three things, orange cranberry bread, Swiss chard and sweet potato gratin, and brownies.

  • the quotidian (11.16.15)

    Quotidian: daily, usual or customary; 
    everyday; ordinary; commonplace



    A rare occurrence: I said yes to her request to make a kitchen mess.

    I’m on a quest for the perfect sour cream cake donut. Things could get dangerous.

    A delicious solution to the ongoing “problem” of too much cream.

    For five girls: an indoor broccoli soup picnic.

    Reading him to sleep.

    For many months he begged for lessons. He finally got them.

    And for this boy, a birthday guitar and some lessons to go with.
    Staying warm.

    Harder than it looks: measuring pigs. 
    (They’re ready to butcher!)
    How many tosses does it take to get a Yahtzee?: show Numberphile videos to your children
    and they will spend hours tossing dice. 
    (Also recommended: a mile of pi.)

    Parallel art.

    Friday night’s full table.

    Family game time: round one did not end well, so a little later they (successfully) had a redo.

    This same time, years previous: I will never be good at sales, gravity, refrigerator bran muffins, sparkle blondies, the wiggles, official, why I’m glad we don’t have guns in our house, the quotidian (11.16.11), my apple line-up, chicken salad, so far so good, Chinese cabbage and apple salad, and SSR.