Best laid plans

Last week was a busy one, but Thursday was pencilled in as a quiet one.  The perfect opportunity to do some cooking, and get myself organised.  On Monday, the weather was looking pretty grim.  Tuesday failed to live up to the weather forecaster's promise of a heatwave.  So, while in the supermarket, I bought the makings for a nice autumn soup (Butternut Buttercup Soup from the wonderful Vicar's Wife's Cook Book, by Eliza Beynon - I will inevitably talk about this book at length in the future, so won't now, save to say "READ THIS BOOK!") and fish pie (in a bid to be a little healthier, we always use the Luxury Fish Pie recipe from 200 Low Fat Recipes by  Judith Wills - I promise you it is not at all as joyless as it sounds, and is a thoroughly delicious winter regular for us).  I had already earmarked some apples from the tree in our garden for Experimental Thursday, and again, I was channelling autumn, planning to make my first ever apple pie.

I know.  It seems surprising that I can put forward such a standard, staple pudding as an Experimental Thursday offering.  I can't quite believe I haven't made one before either.  Surely everyone who has ever made Sunday lunch will have dabbled with a pie.  But, when it comes to Sunday lunch, or cooking with apples in general, I rarely make it past crumble.  It's so simple, and so tasty, and if I'm truthful, I am ever so slightly frightened of pastry.  I find it tricky.  I struggle to roll it out.  How on earth would I ever manage to get the top on a pie without breaking it?  And, perhaps more importantly, I was afraid it could never live up to the wonderful memories I have of my grandmother's apple pies when I was a kid.

With hindsight, I should really have got Nanny to teach me how to do it.  She made utterly fabulous pies.  Apple, blackberries, rhubarb, red currants, blackcurrants, strawberries and raspberries.  I can remember all of them being sealed in fabulously neat pastry cases, carefully pricked to release the steam and served up with lashings of custard, cream or ice-cream, depending on the type of pie and the time of year.  But, I'm five years too late for that particular lesson.  What about ready-made pastry?  I use it a lot for savoury cooking (although mostly puff pastry, rather than the shortcrust I prefer for a desert pie).  Yet somehow it didn't seem like the done thing for an apple pie.  The dish is so simple in itself, I think it needs the lightness that only really comes from fresh homemade pastry.

I pulled down a host of books from the cookery shelves looking for support and inspiration:  Nigella Lawson, Rachel Allen, Eliza Beynon and Nigel Slater all had encouraging things to say about pastry making.  I knew I could do it.  I manage mince pies each Christmas and they are always well received.  I managed the chard tart the other week.  Yet I remained nervous.  Mince pies are tiny disks of pastry, easily managed.  The tart was forgiving of the split in the casing when I laid it in the dish - a bit of podging and modging smoothed that over and the blind baking fixed the problem.  But two large disks of pastry, needing to be moved from board to dish.  Could I really pull off a pie?

I almost didn't try. Not because I was afraid.  No, challenges such as my pie phobia are exactly what Experimental Thursday is about.  On Wednesday afternoon, the weather transformed.  We were suddenly thrust back into the middle of summer.  The sun shone, the mercury rose, Baby Bird and I slowly simmered.  Thursday was even hotter!  Ridiculously hot for England.  Plans for soup were abandoned and the fish pie was hastily recast as pan-fried fish with potato salad and green salad.  Hubby called and said he wouldn't be home for dinner after all.  A pie suddenly seemed like a huge amount of effort for a hot summer's day, with only me there to eat it.  Then I thought about Hubby, slaving away, and about how much he loves apple pie. Maybe, even if he couldn't get home for dinner, he would still fancy a little slice with some ice-cream and a cup of coffee to help him unwind when he did finally get back.


So, I scanned the various suggestions on my shelves once more and got stuck in.  I didn't use a particular recipe.  I borrowed tips from here and tips from there.  I used Nigella's pastry recipe from the Blackberry and Apple Pie in How to Be a Domestic Goddess.  I confess I struggled with rolling the pastry out.  Too much water?  Not enough water?  A too heavily floured board?  I'm not really sure but it took about 6 attempts to roll out the base, remove it from the board and get it into the pie dish, and a similar number for the top.  By the end the pastry was not really very workable.  With hindsight, I should perhaps have simply used the recipe I use for mince pies.  As I do every Christmas, I think I may call my mum for the old faithful Be-Ro Book's recipe (although not eating meat, I always sub the lard with Trex).  I should really write it down  somewhere proper to keep, rather than on the back of an envelope like I normally do when, in a Christmas baking panic, I realise I have lost the scrap I wrote it on last year and need the recipe NOW!

For the filling, I simply peeled, cored and sliced the apples, put them in a pan with some brown sugar, cinnamon and a couple of tablespoons of water, simmered for a few minutes until the apples softened and then stirred vigorously to pulp some of the apples, while still retaining plenty of firmer slices.  I then poured this into the waiting pie-case and took a deep breath before attempting to apply the top.

It did not go well.  The pastry split in several places and then broke altogether as I tried to repair the damage.  I resigned myself to the pie looking "homely" (I would love to say "rustic" but really that would be a stretch too far) and left it on the side to await Hubby's call to say he was heading home.  His journey would be conveniently just long enough to cook the pie and allow it to cool ready for eating.

And so, at ten o'clock on Thursday night, at the end of one of the hottest days ever recorded in the UK in September, Hubby and I sat down together for apple pie, ice-cream and coffee.  It might not have looked brilliant, but it was the best meal we had eaten together all week and we were both exceptionally glad I had done it.  The apples still had a little bite, the cinnamon was just strong enough, the filling just sweet enough and even the pastry, despite my ham-fisted efforts, tasted good.  My pie may have lacked eye appeal, but it was toothsome, tasty and exactly what my poor tired husband needed at the end of a crappy day.  Pies will definitely be making a reappearance in our kitchen.