A pie in the sky idea

Yesterday, I decided to bake a pie. From scratch.

Somehow, in my warped little mind, I concocted a domestic fantasy of June Cleaver proportions in which I would simply and cheerfully whip up a perfect double-crust apple pie during a lazy fall afternoon. As it cooled, I would sit back, relax, and enjoy the heady aroma of cinnamon-and-nutmeg-kissed apples mingling with the scent of the vanguard pastry trio of butter, flour, and sugar. In short, it would be nothing short of a culinary triumph. They would crown me Queen of Crust, Master of the McIntosh, Premier of Pie.

However, as I quickly discovered, pie crust is a fickle friend of the novice baker, simple and subdued at first, but increasingly ill-tempered and just plain nasty over time. It stuck. It cracked. It clumped. It disintegrated. And I was at a loss as to how to smooth it into submission. Julia Child I am not. And Martha? She certainly doesn’t live here.

My guide was an adaptation of a classic apple pie recipe from Martha Stewart that I stumbled upon while visiting The Kitchen Sink Recipes blog. The blog’s author, Kristin, entitled her apple pie post “Easy as Pie.” In retrospect, this title is wonderfully ironic, for although Kristin managed to craft her pie with grace and finesse, this Kristen’s pie-making experience was anything but easy.

It all started happily enough. I began the day like this (excited to don my adorable Anthropologie apron):

Baking is fun!

Midway through the baking process, I expressed my feelings about homemade crust like this:

The crust crumbles...

The pie finally in the oven after hours of peeling, coring, rolling, stirring, and maniacal screaming, I crashed like this:

I don't think June Cleaver took naps.

As the oven timer rang and I fetched the pie from the oven, I felt rejuvenated by the realization that I had actually made a pie, and that it looked edible and perhaps even rustically elegant. And so, when all was said and done, I looked like this:

Praise the heavens, it's a pie!

The moral of the story, dear reader, is that $9.00 for a pie at your local grocery store is a darn good deal. Still, I must admit, it was sort of magical to take this little guy:

and make it into this:

and almost worth all of the physical and emotional suffering to see the look of childlike glee on my husband’s face as he sunk his fork into a plate of homemade apple pie a la mode.

Almost.