I’m in a James Taylor frame of mind. Long winding roads, simple romance and a warm sunny drive through the countryside. Not a bad place to be really, a somewhat enlightened state of bliss brought about by the change of seasons and changes in life, but largely from the pure and easy joy one can get from hopping into the car, playing a familiar tune and going for a drive.
My relaxed state of mind increases dramatically when fall comes about. I’m not sure what it is exactly. I’ve spent a lot of time commenting on the joy I find in particular scenarios, adventures and book reading (It’s time to read The Legend of Sleepy Hollow once more), but nothing ever fully explains the feeling I get when I see colorful leaves falling to the ground through chilly air tinged with firewood smoke. Perfection.
The past couple of weekends Brian and I have been on day trips for one reason or other. First and foremost we had to get to the apple orchard with our friend Kassi. Kassi loves a good country excursion (she’s still a city slicker living in Manhattan) and it’s always fun when she comes up and pays a visit. I love going to the apple orchard, and having fun partners in crime to go along for the hunt makes it that much more exciting.
We went on a Sunday about a week and a half ago…and apparently so did all of New York City. I couldn’t believe the mob of people when we got there, but at the same time I was overwhelmingly pleased. The farm we go to is about 15-20 minutes from our house. Though I’ve mentioned it before, I’ll mention the name again because I think everyone should get up there if they get a chance and before all the trees are picked clean: Wilkens Farm.
Our drive to the farm took us around a body of water known as the Croton reservoir. The homes and woods along this stretch or road are absolutely mind boggling to me. Some of the houses look very old but extremely well maintained and all are lined with stone fences and a periodic gate or two. In my fantasy world we will live out here one day with the peace and quiet of the forest. The water from the reservoir shines visibly through the trunks of mythic golden trees all along the way and beckons you to stop and lay down for a hundred years or so. When I think of something magical, I think of this drive.
There is a smell of fallen leaves here, that musty, slightly old and damp woodsy smell which puts me so much at ease. Again, I’m not sure what about this causes such a soporific response in my body, but it’s unquestionably present. With the windows down and the afternoon sun cutting through the forest all becomes right with the world once more. All that is missing from this picture is a lovely dessert or two, thus the need to head to the orchard.
As I was transitioning out of my recent maple phase, I found a hybrid recipe I wanted to make calling for both maple sugar and apple cider. What better place to look for cider than at an apple orchard? I’ve also been yearning to make a pie, a proper pie (to the best of my knowledge I’ve never made a regular old, fairly straight forward two crust traditional pie for the blog) and with the weather change and the impending holiday season getting under my skin (why does Home Depot already have Christmas trees out?) and the knowledge that we would be going to an apple orchard…well, the obvious choice was to make an apple pie. Between Kassi’s visit (Miss BUTT*R herself) and my October food magazine induced apple fetish, all things seemed to be converging on a cosmic apple moment, so off to the farm we went.
As I stated before the place was packed! I lived near an orchard growing up in Missouri and I don’t ever remember seeing more than one or two cars in the parking lot, but I swear to you it seemed like the summer fair had come to town with the number of cars waiting in line just to get into the overflow lot at Wilkens. People of all shapes, sizes and ages had come to connect with their food a bit and get to spend some much needed time in the sunshine. I think you tend to appreciate the sun more in October because you know it’s going to be pairing up with a chilly fall/winter wind once November rolls around. October’s sunshine is still warm and gently kisses your face with a lover’s touch, leaving you wanting more but knowing you can’t have it for long. October is a month for healthy longing.
After we made it out of the parking lot we had to wait in yet another line to acquire our baskets and be allowed into the fruity kingdom. Kids were running around happily screaming, excited to take a hay ride pulled by an honest to goodness tractor and also to eat apples until their stomachs cramped up and they couldn’t walk anymore. Sounds perfectly logical to me. They were also revved up to get out to the pumpkin patch, which seemed more like a field where pumpkins had been placed (we couldn’t find any trace of vines or growing pumpkins, which was probably best considering the number of tiny tennis shoes running around in the dirt) than a proper growing patch. The children were trying to lift pumpkins larger than themselves, toppling over and rolling around in the dried grass as parents tried to capture their moments of pleasure on film. It was fun to see and their energy was contagious.
Brian, Kassi and I veered off into the orchard proper and began to scout the trees. Many had been picked over, especially the red varieties of apples, but there were plenty of Golden Delicious to be had and I knew they would work perfectly in my pie. We traipsed over several acres taking it all in, eating apples directly from the tree and of course posing for a few photos befitting this month’s special apple edition of BUTT*R magazine. I can’t imagine a more pleasant afternoon out with friends and family “hunting and gathering”.
There were plenty of apples left for us to get our fill and we ended up with nearly a bushel, much more than I would need for my desserts. After our very exhausting afternoon we retired to the car once more for another drive back along the water. We thought it might be fun to take Kassi to the Croton Dam. It’s only about 10 minutes from our house and is really one of the most beautiful stone-works I’ve ever seen. The road driving over the dam is now closed, but you can still park nearby and walk out on top of it. The sound of the water is intense, powerful and all consuming, but also soothing. This place seems like a mini wonder of the world and it’s hard to believe we live so close by.
Later that night I began to dream about apples, gold and red, pink and luscious (like sugarplums dancing) and all the things I would be able to do with them. Sure, they were great for immediate eating, but as with most things I eat I wanted to honor them with a little alchemy in the oven paired with some sugar and buttery pastry. First up is the Apple Cider and Maple Cream Tart with Maple-Cranberry Compote. It’s in the October 2010 Bon Appetit (same as the Maple Gingerbread Cake from last week and a particularly good dessert issue I might add).
Both the desserts I made this past week are great examples of something I would like to have on my Thanksgiving table and are good practice desserts to get your crust making skills in order before any major holiday events you might be attending. Both the crust for this tart and the crust for the apple pie are conveniently made using a food processor, but the tart is a little simpler because no dough rolling is involved. In fact, you pulse the crust ingredients just a few times and let the butter do all the work. There is no water for binding in this one and you may think the crust won’t hold together at all, but I assure you it will. It may seem crumbly, but pour the “dough” into a 9-inch tart pan with a removable bottom and use a small drinking glass to even it out along the bottom and push it up the sides of the pan. It really works, I promise.
While the crust is pre-baking in the oven, you can take a half-gallon of apple cider and put it on the stove to boil. It will boil for nearly an hour and reduce into the most luscious concentrated apple flavor. I added some mulling spices to give mine that extra spicy fragrance and taste I so enjoy. Also, you can be cooking your cranberries for the compote. All of these things can be done ahead of time so that they have time to cool off before assembling the final maple cream filling and baking. This tart was thick and rich, custard-like (from the eggs no doubt) and paired with the slight tartness of the orange zest and cranberries served on top made a very well balanced pairing that we scarfed down in no time.
As for the pie, I had to wait until last weekend to make it because rarely do I find time to make two desserts in a week while trying to work not only at my “new” job, but also trying to finish all the “last minute” house projects we want to get done before the baby comes. Finding yourself suddenly expecting really lights a fire under your butt in the home improvement department. No more time for procrastination…a deadline is now truly a deadline (and an unpredictable one at that).
I used my week wisely to locate a pie recipe I felt fitting to honor our delicious orchard apples, and it comes from my dear favorite the Barefoot Contessa. The recipe is called Deep-Dish Apple Pie, and not only was it a good excuse for me to test my piecrust making skills but also a good reason to buy a deep-dish pie plate. All task oriented dishware purchases are a necessity in my book.
What can I say about this pie to convey the joy I had making it and witnessing the final product? Again, the word perfection comes to mind.
This crust is once more very straightforward and comes together in the food processor in no time flat. This is definitely one of the “don’t over mix crusts” I like to talk about. You want to see your pea-sized butter pieces smiling out at you in the rolled out dough. The butter pieces are your friends and you don’t want to kill them!
The dough makes enough for a top and bottom crust of a 9 or 10-inch pie. The key here is to roll it out quite thin, making sure the bottom crust has at least a half an inch overhang once you place it in the bottom of your baking pan. This recipe calls for four pounds of apples and thus the reason you are going to need a nice deep dish. You peel, core and slice the apples in fairly standard fair, mixing them with not only lemon juice to prevent discoloring, but also lemon and orange zests as well as orange juice, cinnamon, nutmeg, all-spice, and sugar. I won’t lie, the citrus is a bit on the heavy side for my taste and when consulting the recipe you might think about cutting it back by half if you are more of an apple pie purist.
Once you put the apples into the dish, you are ready to roll out the dough for the top. Again, rolling it out to about 1/8-inch thick, make sure there is enough for a half-inch overhang. Brush the edge of the bottom crust with egg wash (an egg beaten with a tablespoon of water in this case) and then lay the top crust over, gently sealing the two crusts together and holding the precious apples inside their happy little space. You can trim the top and bottom crusts simultaneously if you find you have more than the half-inch overhang, and then fold the top and bottom crusts together. Tuck the folded dough under itself and lay it along the edge of the dish, making a pretty border. You could use a fork to make a design at this point or leave it plain depending on your preference.
After cutting a few slices for steam to escape, you are ready to bake for at least an hour until you have the most precious apple pie smell floating through your house. If this doesn’t make people hungry, happy and sentimental all at once then they must not have a soul. This apple pie is not only beautiful, but tastes every bit as good as, well, your mom’s apple pie. In fact, your mother may want to make it herself.
Where has all this talk of apples and wandering led us? To the table of course: the place of the harvest, the bounty and all things lovely and amazing in the fall season. Whether you are out for a country drive to pick some fruit or are starting to gear up for the chilly and spooky impending Halloween celebrations, take some time to smell the leaves…and I mean really smell them, crinkle and crackle them up in your hands and memorize the scent. It’s the smell of a hard working summer spent blowing in the breeze and the quiet payoff that comes when it’s times to rest and head back to the ground for a nap. To me it smells like dust and rain and burning wood and occasionally apples baking; all the good things I cherish in a memory.
Your October road may make you think of different things, but hopefully they will inspire you to bake something harvest-y and warm, with a hint of spice and a little sass. I'm sure James Taylor would approve. That’s all I can ask. It’s just who I am.
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