Apple Pie

If you drive the back roads of northern Wisconsin, every once in a while you will come to a place where the “No Trespassing” signs are so closely spaced that you assume the landowner got a discount on them. On a hot sunny day in August of 1964, three fellow students and I from the University of Wisconsin found ourselves looking at a phalanx of ugly signs guarding an apple orchard at an abandoned farm near Mole Lake, Wisconsin.

Since the bottom line of each sign said “By Order of the Sheriff” we assumed three things: First, that the signs had been paid for with tax money, part of which we had contributed; second, that the orchard must be on public land; and third, that the sheriff was probably just hogging all those lovely apples for himself and his friends.

I said, “We could make some good apple pies with those apples.” An hour later we were back at the cabin on Mole Lake with two paper sacks and a T-shirt full of apples. One of the guys had gotten permission from an uncle to use the place for a week if we promised to leave it clean with the beer and bourbon supply intact. We made a quick run to the general store for extra flour, lard, sugar and cinnamon and began our pie-baking project.

While I made the crusts, the guys peeled and cut apples. We had hardly started when we discovered that we were in a truly primitive fishing cabin: There was only one pie plate in the place. However, there were three large cast iron frying pans and a 9 x 13 inch cake pan, and I assured everyone that no matter what your mother did, you don’t need pie plates to make pies.

We had apple pie for breakfast, lunch and dinner for three days in a row to go with the bacon, eggs, bass and bluegills. Though the crusts were not the best I have made, and we had to guess on the amount of sugar to mix with the apples, we thanked the sheriff for some of the best apple pies we had ever eaten. Not that we actually said anything to him, of course, but we were sincere in the comments we shared around the table.

As Paul Kelly sings, “Stolen apples taste the sweetest,” but we all knew that long before he wrote the song.

Here is how to make a tasty 9-inch double crust apple pie like the ones we enjoyed that week at Mole Lake. If you want to bake it in a 12-inch frying pan, you have to double the ingredients.

INGREDIENTS:

Pie crust
6 to 8 large tart apples
3/4 cup sugar plus a little to sprinkle on the crust
2 T flour
3/4 tsp. ground cinnamon
Dash of ground nutmeg
Dash of salt
2 T butter

PROCEDURE:

Make the pie crust dough first, but don’t roll the crust until the apples are prepared. Here is my recipe for plain pie crust.

Preheat the oven to 400º.

Peel, core and thinly slice the apples into a large mixing bowl. You should have about 6 cups of sliced apples. Mix the sugar, flour, spices and salt together in a small bowl and stir these dry ingredients into the sliced apples.

Line the pie plate with the bottom crust and fill it with the apples. With the right amount of apples, you should have to heap them a little to get them all in. Scatter small pieces of butter over the apples.

Roll out the top crust, dampen the edge of the bottom crust and seal the top crust to the bottom. Trim the crust and make a decorative edge with your fingers or a fork. Sprinkle the crust with a little sugar. Make four or five slits in the top crust to let steam escape as the pie bakes.

Bake 45 to 50 minutes or until juice is bubbling out of the slits.

Let the pie cool as long as you can wait and serve pieces with a large scoop of vanilla ice cream.

NOTES: The best apple pies are made by combining different varieties of apples. If you are buying apples at the market, choose at least two different kinds. Granny Smith, McIntosh, Braeburn and Jonathan apples are good choices. If you are using whatever kind is on the tree, taste an apple before you make the pie. If the apple tastes very sweet, add a tablespoon of lemon juice before you stir in the dry ingredients.

And if you are running short on pie crust, make Apple Cream Pie.

Jerri’s Mom’s Cucumber Slaw

Jerri’s mother gave us a copy of the The Centennial Treasury of Recipes of the Swiss (Volyhynian) Mennonites shortly after it was published in 1974. Jerri is very fond of this cookbook because it contains recipes brought to Kansas from what is now a part of Ukraine by her grandparents and great-grandparents.

The book offers many variations of traditional foods. There is a chapter with seven different recipes for poppy seed rolls (Mak Kuchen), one of which Jerri follows pretty closely when she bakes hers as Christmas gifts every year. There are nine recipes in the chapter for peppernuts (Pfeffernüsse), none of which is as good as the one Jerri uses for the Pfeffernüsse she bakes for the holidays.

And in case you think that those Mennonite cooks brought only dessert recipes to the new world, the book has ten recipes for borscht including Russian and Swiss versions. There are 13 recipes for Beroggi (pronounced burr-AH-ghee), boiled dumplings or baked rolls filled with cheese, sauerkraut or beans and served as a main dish with a savory or sweet sauce.

When those Mennonite families emigrated to the United States, they brought with them the turkey red wheat that made Kansas the breadbasket of the nation along with seeds for the fruits and vegetables that nourished them throughout the year. Watermelon seeds from the Ukraine still produce big melons in Kansas, and their gardens were filled with onions, carrots, beets, potatoes, cabbages, cucumbers, dill and lettuce.

One wonderfully simple but delicious recipe passed down through the generations is cucumber slaw.

INGREDIENTS:

3 medium cucumbers, 7 to 8 inches long
1/4 cup chopped white or yellow onion
1/3 cup sour cream
1 scant T cider vinegar
3/4 tsp. salt
Freshly ground black pepper to taste

PROCEDURE:

Wash and remove the stem and blossom ends from the cucumbers. Peel and slice them very thinly with a kitchen grater. Put them in a medium bowl and stir in the salt. Allow the cucumbers to rest ten to fifteen minutes to draw the water from the slices but do not drain them. Clean and finely chop the onion and add it to the cucumber. Stir in the sour cream, vinegar and a dash of black pepper. Let the slaw rest for a few minutes, then stir and taste it. Add more vinegar, salt and pepper as needed.

NOTES: People have different tolerances for salt, but as Jerri’s mom was fond of saying, “Cucumbers and potatoes always take more salt than you think.” How much you need depends on the size of the cucumbers, but start with at least a teaspoon of salt.

Some cucumbers are juicier than others. If you want, drain out a teaspoon or two of water before adding the sour cream.

Incidentally, this salad is also very low in carbs; a cup has only about three grams of carbohydrates.