I don’t know how long it has been since I made pies–especially entirely from scratch. But the two pumpkin pies turned out pretty well. The filling, made from the Neck Pumpkin I grew, is fabulous–I dug into the dish of pumpkin custard I cooked after the pies were done and gave a taste to H and M this morning (after I tasted it). The dog got a little lick of the spoon, too.
I plan to make the apple pie this morning–the crust is chilling in the fridge from last night, and the filling is coming to room temperature on the table. I popped open the canning jar last night and we had a little with supper as chunky applesauce. If there’s not enough left in that quart canning jar, I’ll open a small jar of boozy fruit and mix that in.
H. was pretty excited about the apple pie. For some reason, it feels like some kind of womanhood test–can I make an apple pie from scratch for “my man”? He’s not acting like that, of course–it’s more my own strange ideas. I can laugh about it, of course, but it’s still lurking there in the corner of my brain. Maybe I’ll put on a flouncy skirt, heels, and makeup–pull it with a flourish out of the oven. Except I don’t think H would find that more or less attractive than anything else I might or might not be wearing–he just wants the pie, not the fifties housewife. 😉