There is an Apple Festival this Saturday which is having a pie-baking contest. I didn’t attend last year, which was the premier, so I don’t quite know what to expect. What I do know is that it’s already Thursday and I still haven’t decided whether to join in or not! Even though Lisa has encouraged me, as have a couple of other folks, the jury is still out. What’s my problem? I’ve been telling people it’s mostly because I can be shy and am especially not chummy with the idea of being put on the spot and forced to brag about my cooking in front of strangers, but it’s also because my feelings about Slow Food Pittsburgh are rather mixed these days. Of course, organizations that I support fully, like my Co-op, are helping sponsor the festival, so I should probably just kick my grumpiness under the rug this time.
I would also probably feel somewhat less intimidated if it was called a challenge rather than a contest, which would also clear out the image in my head of rabid bakers whisking each other into a frenzy and planning secret sabotages in order to be the winner. Sometimes my imagination gets a little, well…restless, you know? And so do my italics.
But I baked a pie this week anyway, as a sort of expression of solidarity/frantic trial run in case I end up entering/way to test a theory I had about putting some extra ginger in the pie. I learned a few important things, namely that it’s a bad idea to start baking a pie after 7pm if you want to go to bed at a reasonable hour. You may end up rushing too much and have some problems with your normally foolproof crust because you forgot to chill the shortening (although I have to admit, after being in the oven, it acquired an intriguing “rustic” look that I find sort of charming). There might be charred pie juices all over your baking stone that will have to be chipped off later. The apples you used (a variety, but mostly Jonagold) might surprise you with their exuberant release of liquid, making the inside of the pie a little mushier that you’d prefer. Update: something magical happened after 24 hours and a lot of the liquid disappeared. I also realized that there are just a few mushy patches and the rest is more firm. Hooray! All of these things suggest that pie-baking should be a well-planned endeavor, and most certainly be done in the morning* or on nights in which staying up late will not turn you into a zombie the next day.
I should not complain too much, though…the great thing about this crust is that even though I patched it in about a hundred places and rolled it too thickly, it was still tender and delicious, if only a bit too crumbly. The apple-ginger combination was sublime (see, bragging is much easier when the audience is invisible). I probably should have paid more attention to which types of apples release the most liquid, and I think I’ll pick a firmer batch next time (and also make sure they don’t languish in my fridge for too long). I think next time I’ll choose a more tart variety, either to pair with Jonagold or solo. I also tried to add some spice to the crust, but don’t think it came through very well, possibly due to me not using enough of it or because the ginger was so assertive.
So, it’s not quite contest material, but definitely good eating material. Oh, and if you’re looking for a recipe? It’s no secret, just a variation on one from Cook’s magazine a couple of years back. I’ll post the recipe with modifications after Saturday…just in case!
*Grammar Dork Alert: English prepositions are so funky. Do you find a difference in meaning between baking a pie “in the morning” versus baking a pie “in the night” (putting aside the obvious time of day difference)? For me, it’s more natural (and semantically similar) to bake the pie “at night” rather than “in the night”. But I don’t mind baking it “in the afternoon”. Now try explaining this to an ESL student.