As American as…
I am sporting an interesting fever today, but I had to work anyway. Meetings and things crowded most of my day. This means I need to treat myself tonight. If I have to treat myself and I ache too much to do anything I don’t absolutely have to then obviously the treat has to be something I need to do, regardless. That makes sense, in a Wonderland kind of a way.
My thought was to make something particularly scrummy from the list of recipes that I need to test. And, by happenstance (if you call a shopping list ‘happenstance’ – I rather like the thought of that – one day I shall make myself up a pad of paper with ‘happenstance’ on each page, and devote it to shopping lists) I obtained some heritage apples today. Cox’s orange pippin for daily devouring and a more cooking-y one, for apple pie. Now you understand the heading and you can see where my thoughts are taking me and I might as well leave this post unfinished.
Except that I’m a stubborn git. If I can work when I ought to be asleep then I can finish this post.
I’m making a Southern apple pie to an 1879 recipe, and I’m using Braemar apples. Braemar are not perfect, but they’re the best I can get right now. There are no really good cooking apples in season yet. The last of the stone fruit was at the market and a few types of apples, but the really solid old fashioned-cooking apples are April or May. Still, Braemar are better than Gala and more like the apples that will be round in October, when the chef will make his version of the perfect apple pie.
I shall make my apple pie, eat a slice, watching the silliest TV I can find, and then have an early night. That ought to beat this virus hollow and get some work done, to boot.
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