One of my earliest memories takes place when I was about 5 years old. I had a babysitter named Linda. She was a big, thick woman with a heavy accent, who I wouldn't be able to recognize today if I tried. But she taught me pie.
She'd lift me up and sit me on the counter, where I'd teeter, terrified at falling off and exhilarated to be so high up. And I'd watched Linda bake. The counter top would be white with flour as she rolled out her dough, the kitchen would be warm from the heating oven, and the fruit would sparkle with sugar.
Watching Linda's pies bake, seeing the transformation of flour, sugar, butter and fruit into a golden-brown, bubbling pastry was magical. And eating it was even more so. The taste of a warm, buttery crust blanketing a crisp, tart apple was more than my 5 year old brain could conceive of. I don't know that anything's perfect in this world, but when you bake, you can get awfully close.
Today, whenever I eat a slice of warm apple pie, I will always instantly be 5 years old again, sitting on the counter and watching Linda roll out dough, as the heat of the oven fills that small kitchen, and I'm once again amazed by the magic of baking.
I don't expect to find the recipe for the perfect pie recipe, but I think I can get close.
She'd lift me up and sit me on the counter, where I'd teeter, terrified at falling off and exhilarated to be so high up. And I'd watched Linda bake. The counter top would be white with flour as she rolled out her dough, the kitchen would be warm from the heating oven, and the fruit would sparkle with sugar.
Watching Linda's pies bake, seeing the transformation of flour, sugar, butter and fruit into a golden-brown, bubbling pastry was magical. And eating it was even more so. The taste of a warm, buttery crust blanketing a crisp, tart apple was more than my 5 year old brain could conceive of. I don't know that anything's perfect in this world, but when you bake, you can get awfully close.
Today, whenever I eat a slice of warm apple pie, I will always instantly be 5 years old again, sitting on the counter and watching Linda roll out dough, as the heat of the oven fills that small kitchen, and I'm once again amazed by the magic of baking.
I don't expect to find the recipe for the perfect pie recipe, but I think I can get close.
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