This afternoon I had a lovely time hanging out with my mom & grandmother. I was on a mission, really: To make my very first pie from scratch, using my grandmother's long-loved pie crust recipe. My grandmother has not made this pie crust in years & years & years. And years. Ever since she tried the frozen pre-made packages of pie crust sold in grocery stores, she never looked back. Not once.
My dad, unceasingly, begs & pleads for someone, ANYONE, to make one of grandma's pies with the homemade crusts. But I think mom & grandma pretend not to listen. Or they'll giggle in his direction. It's this perpetual routine they have. And when the holiday season rolls around? There is no hushing that man.
Just give him a pie already!
Today I took on the challenge.
But with a twist. In fact, we made a game of it. Dad was about to be the sole player in a blindfold taste test. I made an apple pie, using the infamous recipe, while mom made a pie using a Pillsbury pie crust.
Grandmother helped me peel & cut apples.
While I rolled out pie dough, the Mr. even stopped by & swapped stories with all the ladies. He shared about how he once made a pie when he was a kid, & it didn't turn out so well. (What?!? I am gaining the most random of facts about him all the time. In fact, I just recently learned that he collected stickers & even had a sticker album in grade school. Huh?!? Pies & stickers? I'm pretty sure I love him even more.)
Anyway, I had a bit of trouble with the dough, trying three times until I finally perfected the top crust.
"I think it's too thick," said the Mr.
As if his 8 year old pie-making self was suddenly an expert on the subject.
OK, my recent new explosion of love for you still exists, but step away, son.
There's nothing creative about my adorable polka dotted design. One word: Pinterest!
While the pies cooked, there was tea-sipping going on. Bits of leftover pie dough were sprinkled with cinnamon + sugar, baked, & nibbled on.
The pies filled the house with a fragrance of fruit & spice.
And then it was time to eat.
I'll just get to the ending.
Dad chose mom's store-bought pie over mine.
And so did the Mr.
And so did everyone else.
The Doughboy won.
I have never entered a baking contest, but I decided I would not ever like to enter one.
I admit, the filling in my mom's pie was much sweeter & her apples were cooked to a perfect limp. Which is weird, because we used the same recipe for the filling. Whatevs. No excuses.
I personally love a thick, flaky crust.
Which is a good thing.
Because I have lots of pie leftover.
|The winning pie.|