10 March, 2015
Apple Pies Are Really Not My ThingPosted in : apple pie, baking, food, funny, humor, story, Uncategorized on by : Jeanette Schramm
In honor of Pi Day, on March 14, here is a post on pie!
On more than one occasion, I have tried making apple pie. It’s an American classic. You see it in movies and TV shows, you read about it in books, and you eat it at picnics. Surely, it couldn’t be that difficult to make.
Surely, I couldn’t have been more wrong.
My first experience was about a year ago. It was the boyfriend’s and my first anniversary (at least it was in spirit, as we were on opposite ends of the country for the actual date). I decided to make an apple pie to surprise him.
I had found a recipe online (one which I have since lost, probably intentionally) and gathered the ingredients from the local supermarket. I was excited and ready to try something new.
The entire process went smoothly and, when it was ready, I popped that sucker in the oven and set a timer.
When time was up, I opened the oven, letting free the most beautiful aroma of autumnal baked goodness. The smell, however, was much more appealing than the sight that awaited me inside that hot metal box.
Nobody had told me that you were supposed to place a baking sheet under the pie pan because it would bubble over and make a mess of your oven. So, as a result, the bottom of my oven had become coated with a nice, thick, layer of charred pie filling. Terrific.
Grumbling, I removed the entire rack from my oven and placed it on a tray. I was displeased, but not deterred. It actually looked pretty good, in spite of the mess it had made.
Curiously, I poked the top of the pie. It was still liquid.
I was pretty sure it wasn’t supposed to be that loose. I figured, maybe if I let it set, it will solidify.
The boyfriend, who had been sitting patiently and obediently on the couch, staying out of the kitchen, started to get antsy after about a half hour. He knew I had made apple pie. He had smelled it and then I had let him see it when it came out of the oven. We decided to try cutting the pie. Then things got really interesting.
It turned out that the half an hour of sitting on the counter and thinking about what it had done wrong hadn’t really helped the pie. It was still apple soup in a pie crust. A knife wasn’t going to cut it — literally or figuratively. So, I ditched the knife, went back to the silverware drawer, and came back with a spoon. I tried my hardest not to show it, but I was practically in tears.
After the boyfriend convinced me that he still loved me even though my apple pie was soupy and that he still thought it was a sweet gesture, I decided to make the best of the situation.
“It’s not apple pie. It’s apple splat,” I told him. I figured renaming it would lower consumers’ expectations, if nothing else.
When we finally got around to eating the apple splat, we found that it was actually quite tasty. I guess that just goes to show you that looks can, in fact, be deceiving.