Over the past couple of weeks, E and I collected an excess of apples. Since I am finicky about the apples I eat, and E wasn’t getting around to them, I decided to bake with them.
Pie was my first challenge. I had never made pie. I didn’t even have my first piece of apple pie until I was in college. I. Know. I am weird and slightly not American. I watched my best friend in college make them a couple of times and I helped, but not really. And one time, all I had to do was take it out of the oven, and it ended up folding in on itself and onto the oven door. I cried as E scooped it up back into the pie tin. Pathetic, really. In the interest of self preservation, I bought ready-made pie crusts. I put on Top Chef, and proceeded to peel, core and thinly slice these apples. I wish I took a picture. There was a humongous pile of apples! I soon realized that I had way too many apples and only enough pie crust for one pie.
The pie went in the oven, and I proceeded to litter the Facebook feed with all my ideas for the excess apples. TWO hours later, I decided on apple bread so that I wouldn’t have to actually make pie crust. I felt like the pile of apples was staring at me saying, “Ayesha, you have to do something with us. We are an opportunity to make good. Otherwise, we will go to waste. Plus you still haven’t even thought about what you’re making for dinner. Make something already!” You know what they say: “When life hands you apples…” They don’t say that. But I did.
This adventure really just let me know that I have too much time on my hands, and clearly too many apples. Story of one day. Thanks for reading!