Adam, Phillip and I went to Wallace Brothers Farm this afternoon to pick some apples and pears at their weekend U-pick. Last September was our first time there. The first thing Adam said when we got home was "Should I start peeling now?"
The crust recipe I use is here; there's only butter, flour, sugar and water in it. It calls for 3 cups flour; I used 2 white and 1 whole wheat.
I don't really use a recipe for the apple part, I just add some sugar and cinnamon to the cut apples, plop them on the bottom crust, and add the top crust. And a decorative apple for good measure.
Enough of the pretty pictures - on to the funny part. I try to seem somewhat put together for the most part, but all of that went out the window during this whole pie process. I had a bit of leftover dough, so I made a few little apple tarts. I was trying to dislodge one from the very hot muffin tin, when I touched the pan with my pinkie. My finger instinctively flew to my mouth, which ordinarily wouldn't have been a big deal. Today, however, I happened to have a glass bowl in the same hand. Up flies my hand, the bowl whacks my left eyebrow, which sends it sailing, in slow motion, arcing through the air and exploding on the pantry floor. Good grief, what a mess. And of course, we keep the broom in the pantry, behind where said explosion occurred. Alas, it's all cleaned up and Adam just came all the way upstairs just to tell me how tasty the pie is. So I'd better go have a piece!