Thursday, October 30, 2008

Last week, Luci and I scheduled a cooking night with a couple of the non-Christian young ladies. In the past, we've had them teach us how to make some of their traditional foods, but this time we decided to do an American meal--oven-fried chicken and mashed potatoes with apple pie for dessert. Only one of the girls came, but we had a lovely time making faces into Luci's webcam and discussing the difference between Orthodox adherents and Protestants while breading the chicken and smashing up the potatoes.

And then there was the pie. I lay no claims to culinary expertise, but generally I can follow a recipe. Therein lay the problem. I've learned from past experience that pie crusts + me = rubber. There's just no such thing as a flaky Michelle-made pie crust. So, since Luci didn't have much experience with pie crusts, either, we decided a press-in-the-pan was definitely the way to go. I was in a hurry, so I pulled a recipe for the filling from a cookbook, grabbed a streusel topping from somewhere (I know, I know...how tough is it to make a streusel topping?), and copied down a press-in-the-pan oil pastry recipe without so much as a second glance at it.

Historically, I believe, press-in-the-pan pie crusts are considered beginner level baking. Good grief, there are four ingredients. I gallantly volunteered to peel the apples while Janae measured out the ingredients for the pie crust and Luci sliced the peeled apples. It wasn't long before Luci noticed something odd about the pie crust--"Is it supposed to look like that?" Uh oh.

Janae wanted to add more flour--it was just too sticky. Actually, it was soupy. Sort of like pancake batter. A cup and half later, it was like really sticky bread dough. And it filled nearly half the pie pan. Luci was losing confidence. "Let's just start over."

Janae wanted to add more flour. "Just a little more flour."

I floured my hands and tried to sort of press it up the sides of the pan, but it slithered back down to join the giant blob in the middle. Game over. Somebody found a Ziploc bag (can't just throw it away!) and we slipped the lovely glop into it for scientific examination. Then we started over, and this time without a recipe. Pretty soon I had something that was the consistency of a rollout pie crust.

"Luci, do you have a rolling pin?" Ha ha. Why did I even ask? What could one substitute for a rolling pin?

Enter empty Coke bottle. We filled it with water for weight and ignored the ridges that created thin stripes in the pie crust. And then we transferred the pie crust to the pan. Sort of in pieces.

And that's sort of how it came out, too. It's okay, though--the filling was good, and the streusel topping was delicious. And now Janae knows how not to make pie crust.

1 comment:

Kristen said...

Haha -- that's too funny, Michelle. However, I am sure those pie-making memories will be cherished forever! (And that little incident will make them more memorable and laughable.=)