a spooky halloween party for 20 third graders

when i first came to denmark in the autumn of 1997, there were no signs at all of halloween. i searched high and low and finally found a lone, rather pale pumpkin for 120 kroner (that was about $15 then) in a florist shop. because i was determined to carve a pumpkin, i bought it despite the outrageous price. today, we get them from a local farmer's wagon for 20 kroner apiece.  in the early part of the noughties, i imported quite a lot of pumpkin carving sets from the US for friends and family whenever i was there. but now, you can even buy those here. what a difference a decade makes.

this weekend, we're having sabin's second annual halloween party for her classmates. they're really excited about it. last year, husband got a pig's head to both thrill them and gross them out - they were delighted, even the girls! this year, he tried to get a cow's head, but that didn't prove possible, so it's a pig again (denmark is a pork country, what can i say). we're also making and doing some of the classics--bowls of cold spaghetti and peeled grapes will serve as brains and eyeballs, small sausages with almond "finger nails" in ketchup "blood" and a nasty witches' potion from which that the kids will have to retrieve coins, as well as bobbing for apples and the like.

but all of that activity will make the kids hungry, so, inspired by my self-imposed harry potter reading marathon, i'm going to make some ghoulish treats - butterbeer, cauldron cakes (pancakes made outdoors over a fire), mini dragon eggs (chicken meatballs), trick wands (chocolate-dipped pretzels), spiced pumpkin seeds and some cupcakes with ghosts (not so much harry potter as epicurious-inspired). i'll also serve bread and plenty of veggies and a couple of dips--one creme fraiche and one guacamole-like.

i haven't made it all yet, so i don't have photos of everything, but here are a few of the recipes:

spiced pumpkin seeds

seeds of one large pumpkin

fiesta fajita seasoning

lowry's seasoning salt

3T olive oil

separate the seeds from your pumpkin into a colander as you empty out the seeds and slimy bits. separate as much of the slimy bit out of the seeds as you can and discard. rinse the seeds well under cold running water. ideally, you spread them out on a paper towel to dry for a couple of days, but you can actually roast them immediately.

put the seeds in a plastic bag, put in the olive oil, a generous shake of fajita seasoning and a generous shake of lowry's. i stock up on these spices every time i'm in the US or having visitors from the US. you can no doubt find a seasoning salt in your own grocery store that will work just as well, but i do recommend the fiesta and lowry's if you can get them. my fiesta fajita seasoning is without the salt, if you have the kind with salt, you can skip the lowry's.

shake up the seeds in the plastic bag until they are all coated in the olive oil and seasoning and spread them evenly onto a baking sheet lined with baking paper. sprinkle on a bit more seasoning if it looks like they need it. pop them into a 175℃/350℉ oven for approximately 20 minutes. keep an eye on them and stir them at least once. when they go a golden-brown, they're ready. eat them by the handful. they don't need to be separated from the white outer shell, you just eat them as they are, no fuss.

* * *

mini dragon eggs

800 grams ground chicken

2 medium carrots, peeled and grated

1 medium onion, grated

1 medium zucchini (courgette) grated

2/3 C of breadcrumbs

2 eggs

i let my food processer do the grating work for me, just tossing in the carrots, onion and zucchini. mix it together with the ground chicken, breadcrumbs and 2 eggs. form into small meatballs. i intend these to be finger-food sized, so they're quite small. when i make this for dinner, i make then a bit bigger.

put them into a baking dish with a good glug of olive oil and pop them into a 175℃/350℉ oven to bake (you can also stand over a frying pan and cook them on the stove, but i tend to choose the easiest route). they'll likely need 30 minutes and you might want to check them halfway and turn them, to ensure they're browning evenly. i haven't made the smaller ones yet, so it might be that they require less time.

these can be made with whatever ground meat you'd like. i also use pork or a lovely mixture of pork and veal that we can get here in denmark. this time, i'm making them with chicken, both to be a bit healthier and lighter and also because two of the kids coming to the party are muslim and don't eat pork. with 20 kids and half a dozen adults to serve, i think i'll make a double batch.

* * *

butterbeer

i found a number of recipes for the famous harry potter butterbeer. the books don't actually have a recipe for it, but lots of people have attempted to make one up. if you google it, you'll find lots of those. many of them call for cream sodas or ginger ale and those are both pretty hard to come by where i live. my intuition tells me that if i want the kids to drink it, it should have an apple base. i wanted to make a warming apple cider anyway, so i think i'll do that. it's going to be chilly outside and the kids will need something to warm them.

2 liters apple cider

1 orange, sliced

1 cinnamon stick

1 star anise

5 cloves

heat on the stove until steaming and fragrant.

to make it something special and take it more in the direction of butterbeer, i think i'll combine several of the ideas i came across when i googled butterbeer recipes.

i think i'll put a spoonful of good vanilla ice cream into the warm cider and give it a squeeze of butterscotch topping - the kind for ice cream. i think that, while not actually involving butter, just might do the trick. and for the adults, we'll add a shot of a beautiful cinnamon/vanilla schnapps that we've got lying around. that should make things more pleasant all around.

are you having a halloween party and if so, what are you making?

* * *

for easy conversions, go here.

favorite cookbook: tamasin day-lewis' weekend food

i guess i can't really get off the comfort food track at the moment as i battle the flu that's going around (swine or otherwise, does it really matter?). and the search for comfort food makes me turn to a favorite recipe in tamasin day-lewis' weekend food. it doesn't hurt that the darkness is upon us and a cold rain is spattering against the windows, because that sends me even deeper into nesting mode. so on saturday, i took down tamasin and made her stuffed cabbage in the troo style (p. 17).

it sounds a bit bland, a big pot of sausage and cabbage, but there is magic in the combination. and the simplicity is just the ticket when you're feeling a bit under the weather and just want to get back under the covers with your book.  here's tamasin's original. i'll tell you about my modifications in a minute...

tamasin's

1.4-2kg (3-4 pound) head of cabbage - savoy or dutch

675 (1.5 pounds) of best organic pork sausages.

salt

pepper

butter

preheat the oven to 150℃/300℉. shred the cabbage into thin strips, coring it first, and blanch it in a huge vat of boiling, salted water for five minutes. drain it in a colander and run the cold tap over it to prevent further cooking at this stage. butter an ovenproof pot.

slit the sausage skins and push out all of the sausage meat onto a plate, discarding the skins. place a third of the cabbage in the bottom of the pot and season. place half the sausage meat in a layer over the cabbage. continue with a layer of cabbage and sausage, finishing with a layer of cabbage, seasoning each layer as you go, and dotting the top with butter. cover tightly with a layer of greaseproof (baking) paper and a lid and cook in the oven for 2-2.5 hours.

julie's

1 head savoy or ordinary cabbage

675 grams of ground pork (i get the sausages as she recommends if they're available, but my grocery store doesn't always have good ones)

salt, pepper, butter

handful of thyme, sage, parsley (whatever herbs you have on hand), finely chopped

glug of white wine

4-5 medium potatoes, peeled and thinly sliced into rounds

core and thinly slice the head of cabbage. i don't bother to blanch it, as i think it gets plenty of time in the oven and doesn't need this fiddly step. mix your ground pork with the chopped herbs in a bowl, salt and pepper to taste.

butter an oven-proof pot with a lid (my orangey red le cruset is perfect for this - it's the ultimate pot, actually, which is why we have two). layer cabbage in the bottom, as tamasin does, then a layer of sausage, followed by a layer of thinly-sliced potatoes. repeat, finishing with a layer of cabbage. place a couple of pats of butter on top and pour over a good glug of white wine. in my view it has a tendency to get a bit dry if you don't add liquid and my liquid of choice is almost always wine. put the lid on and bake for 2 hours. it does seem to help keep it moist if you line the top with baking paper as she suggests.

i used to serve with boiled potatoes, but now that i add the potatoes to the dish itself, i tend to make a simple salad of baby spinach, avocado, orange pepper and a mustard vinaigrette to go with it. i also serve a good cider vinegar together with the dish, as a sprinkling of vinegar gives it a lovely zing that finishes it nicely. i once made it with sauerkraut instead of plain cabbage and my family hated it (i personally didn't mind it, but will admit it was a particularly salty sauerkraut).

tamasin is another of the very real brit cooks. her accent a bit posh and her aga to die for. her only drawback, as far as i'm concerned, is that she seems like a hardcore runner and as one who runs only when chased, i feel a pang of guilt watching the program that accompanies this book and hearing her talk about leaving dough to prove while she goes for a run.

paging through, i realize i have made a lot of the recipes in this cookbook, perhaps more than in any of the favorites i've listed so far. everything from sicilian peppers (i do love a good roasted pepper), to pasta puttanesca (could anything be simpler or more nourishing?) to stewed oxtail with grapes (it really works), to a simple aubergine, feta and mint salad, to cracked wheat and nut salad (i'm a sucker for a pomegranate) to roasted pumpkin and coconut soup, to her chocolate cookies (the only recipe i felt doesn't work--there's not nearly enough sugar in it, which sounds strange because it does call for 450g of sugar, but it's not enough) to her brownies, drenched ginger and lemon cake and homemade bloody marys. except for the cookies, it has been a success, all of it. and with the cabbage in the troo style, i go back again and again. get it, and i'll bet you'll do so too.

Food for comfort

Perhaps it’s a case of “great minds think alike,” but I suspect that is has more to do with cold and flu season. Whatever the case, both Julochka and I had chicken soup on our minds and stovetops this week.

For the past couple of weeks, someone in my family has been coughing, snorting, wheezing, not sleeping well and feeling downright low and lethargic. Although English small-talk usually revolves around the weather, at the moment that perennial topic seems to have been replaced by dissecting the symptoms of what may or may not be swine flu. The problem is that the symptoms are so nonspecific, and resemble every other bad cold: aches, congestion, a streaming nose, a fever, a sharp sinus headache. My workaholic husband rarely gets sick, but on Friday he was home, in his bathrobe, pale and sweaty and downright miserable. Since he can’t abide the dubious saccharine flavored promises of Lemsip, (and doesn’t believe in them, anyway), I had to resort to that oldest and truest of remedies: homemade chicken soup.

In truth, chicken broth is something that I make every week – but I tend to use it for something else: a risotto, or the basis of a soup like Minestrone. Although I’m not the most efficient housewife, I regularly practice one recycling economy: I make a roast chicken, and then I make a broth from its carcass. It’s not a recipe exactly, but more of a method. I have a close friend who always just boiled up the bones with water, but I like to add more flavor and nutrients to my broth.

This is my method:

Remove any skin or fat, and then cover the bones of a chicken with cold water - approximately 3 quarts or 3 litres is usually about right.
Then add a large white onion, cut in half; two or three carrots and the same of celery, also cut into pieces. (I always save the frilly bits of the celery for broth.)
Very importantly, add about a tablespoon of good sea salt and in between 10-20 peppercorns. (I like a lot of pepper.)
If I want the broth for a Mexican soup of some kind, I might also add a clove or two of garlic and a bunch of cilantro.
(I like fresh parsley in a chicken broth, but I always add it at the end – so it retains its flavor and doesn’t get slimy.)
Bring the contents of your soup pot to a boil, and then simmer for at least an hour . . . or as long as you like. The longer you cook it down, the more concentrated the flavor will be – although you will, of course, lose some volume in the process.

After I’ve strained the broth, I tend to add more carrots and celery – cut into small coins and crescents – some chicken, if I have it, and noodles or rice. Let the broth boil, gently, until everything is soft.

The problem with persistent colds it that they tend to make a person feel really low and listless. Although chicken soup does help clear the sinuses, sometimes other comfort food is needed for those feelings of exhaustion and low-grade depression.

Once, when I was a child, my mother made me a homemade vanilla pudding when I had been ill for days and was just regaining my appetite. It was somehow rich and bland, soft and soothing, all at the same time. When I am feeling utterly worn-down, I still crave foods that fall into this category – and for several years now, my favorite has been a rice pudding made like a risotto.

A lot of English people have negative feelings about rice pudding because they associate it with “school food” – and have a horror of its watery lumpiness and the “skin” that forms on the top. A risotto inspired rice pudding is nothing like this, however; it is creamy and luscious. Another advantage it has over traditional rice pudding is its cooking method: instead of taking hours to cook in the oven, you can produce it in about half an hour’s stirring time. The only caveat is that you have to actually stand at the stove and stir it. Unlike a usual risotto, made with a clear broth, this one is made with milk – and milk burns easily. I recommend reading a light paperback while you stir; alternatively, you can have a long phone conversation with someone you’ve been meaning to catch up with for a while.

I got the inspiration for this recipe from my beloved Nigella – in her How to Eat cookbook.


Risotto-Inspired Rice Pudding

Ingredients:
700 ml (or about 24 fluid ounces) of “full-fat” milk*
1 ounce butter
2 heaping tablespoons of sugar**
75 grams (or four heaping tablespoons) of Arborio rice

Method:
Heat the milk to boiling in the microwave. (You can also heat it in a pan on the stovetop, but be vigilant because milk scorches easily and can leave you with horribly burnt pan to clean up.)

Melt the butter in a large saucepan, and stir the sugar into it. When it is bubbling away, add the Arborio rice and stir for a minute or two until the grains are evenly coated.

Slowly, one ladle at a time, add the milk until is all incorporated. Then you need to slowly and methodically stir until all of the milk has transformed your rice into a lovely, creamy pudding.

After 20 minutes you can start tasting it. The rice should be soft, but still have some “shape” to it. (It shouldn’t be hard or grainy, though.)

When it is the right texture, I finish it off in one of several ways:
A handful of raisins
A few shavings of fresh nutmeg
A dab of butter and a tablespoon of cinnamon sugar

Nigella likes to add several tablespoons of double cream at the end, but I don’t like it to be this creamy.

*On the subject of full-fat dairy products, I will confess that I always make this pudding with semi-skimmed or even skimmed milk. Julochka and I differ when it comes to dairy products. I don’t like the overly creamy taste (or fat content) of whole milk; she and Nigella do.

**I always use vanilla sugar when I make this pudding. If you don’t have any, you might want to do some good vanilla essence to the hot milk.

On Friday, I made this lunch for my ailing husband: chicken soup, followed by rice pudding. It was delicious and comforting, and l would like to think that it made both of us feel a little bit better. Of course, you don’t have to be sick or depressed to enjoy this meal . . . but sometime this flu season you will probably have the need of it.   Of course, it would be extra extra-nice if someone would make it FOR you . . . but we can't everything in this life.

the alchemy of comfort food: grandma kate's chicken & noodles

i'll admit it. i watch heston blumenthal's cooking programs (kitchen chemistry) with a mixture of horror and fascination. to make mashed potatoes, he uses a thermometer and keeps them at 70 degrees C for 30 minutes, then immerses them in cold water and adds egg yolks when he begins to mash them. and although that sounds like WAY too much trouble, i am fascinated by the science of it. while i scoff at the extreme pretentiousness of the notion of molecular cooking (all cooking is molecular, right--it's a matter of chemistry), i am at the same time attracted to the alchemy. because cooking is transformative, like alchemy, transforming simple things into something more complex.

but i do wonder what he'd make of my grandmother's chicken soup with homemade noodles. because somehow, i think she got the alchemy just right and she did it quite instinctively, without putting any thought at all into the whole science of it.

grandma kate's homemade noodles

2 cups flour

1/2 tsp. salt

lump of butter (the size of walnut)

3 eggs

2 T. water

mix first three ingredients, stir in egg and mix. only add the water if needed to make it come together into an elastic, golden ball. knead by hand. roll out, allow to dry several hours then slice into thin (1/4 to 3/8" wide) strips. my mom says she dries them on cooling racks. but i can remember that grandma rolled hers out on newspapers (the family ate a ton of ink), then she'd hang noodles over the backs of all her chairs. cut them the length you want or break them up after they are dry.

although i know my grandmother did it all by hand, i'll admit i tossed it all into my kitchen aid foodprocessor and let it do the work for me. the dough is a gorgeous yellow from the eggs and has a lovely elastic consistency. my mom said, "This is the best recipe. They are yellower (eggs) and yummier (butter) than most homemade noodles I have tried."

mom also told me that when grandma made chicken and noodles, it was really just that - chicken and noodles. she didn't put anything else in with the broth (apparently not even an onion!)...she just boiled up a chicken (undoubtedly after butchering it when they lived in the house down the creek), then added the noodles, some salt and pepper and hoped it stretched to feed her family of nine children.

but grandma didn't have the benefit of an organic box of locally-grown veggies being delivered to her door every friday. of course, she probably had a garden full of organic veg just outside her door, long before anyone was talking about organic, but we'll leave that aside. today, my organic box contained all of the ingredients for a lovely chicken soup base, including the chicken!

chicken noodle soup

1 organic chicken*

1 large carrot, peeled and diced

1 large leek, sliced

2 parsnips, peeled and diced

1 handful fresh parsley, chopped

2 celery stalks, including leaves, chopped

1 fresh bay leaf (they're so much better fresh, it's incredible)

25 grams salted organic butter

glug of good olive oil

2 liters boiling water from the kettle (to speed things along)

salt & pepper to taste
1 batch of homemade noodles, as above

heat the butter and olive oil in the pan (speaking of alchemy, this is a fantastic combo), add the chopped veggies and sauté until softened. make room in the bottom of the pan, put in a bit more olive oil (if it looks necessary) and place the chicken in the pan. brown for a few minutes, then add the hot water. you can also add cold if you prefer, i just like to speed things up by heating it up with the kettle first.  simmer until the chicken is tender and delicious and falling off the bone. remove the chicken onto a cutting board, cool and separate all of the meat from the bone. chop the larger pieces and put them back in the pot. add a bit more water (if necessary), then heat it up again and add your noodles and more salt and pepper to taste, cook for 15-20 minutes more and serve the alchemic goodness to anyone in the family that's in need to nourishment after (or during) a cold or flu.

my grandma was famous for her chicken and noodles. especially the noodles. she'd make vast batches of them for church bazaars and people would snatch up those plastic bags of homemade goodness faster than you could blink. i remember her kitchen being covered in newspapers with noodles drying on them. sometimes, you could even see a bit of newsprint on the noodles, but she would just say it added to the taste. and it probably did. maybe it contributed to the alchemy of the whole thing. i wonder what heston would say.

* if you saw how they treated the chickens, like i have seen on hugh fearnley-wittingstall's programs about it, you would never buy an ordinary chicken again--better to splurge once in awhile on an expensive organic one that was treated nicely than to have chicken produced the ordinary way every day. plus, the organic ones taste loads better!

EDIT:  although i had a little bit forgotten about the tarragon mustard giveaway, i remembered today and generated a random number. Nimble, you won, so please email me (email address on my profile) with your address and I'll get that little jar of goodness in the mail to you right away!

Favorite Cookbooks: Feast

Before Nigella Lawson was everyone’s domestic goddess – and truly, has there ever been a food writer more pulchritudinous? – I was a devoted admirer of her monthly food column in British Vogue. She has such a strong physical presence now that it is almost funny to look back and remember a time when she was a faceless journalist. Her writing voice was always very particular, though, and full of intelligence and enthusiasm. Each recipe was a personal narrative of sorts, well-peppered with opinions and anecdotes. I liked the way she preached a philosophy of avidity – as opposed to perfection. I also liked her culturally sophisticated approach to food. She could tell you how to do basic things, but she was also well-read and well-travelled, and that was reflected in her food descriptions.


I own all of Nigella’s cookbooks – except, inexplicably, Forever Summer (which happens to be Julochka’s favorite). It is difficult to choose my favorite amongst them, but my top two are definitely How to Eat (her first; and so exhaustive that she must have written it thinking it would be her only) and Feast. The sub-title of Feast is “Food to Celebrate Life,” and really, it does have an especially festive quality. Perhaps I have a soft spot for it because my mother-in-law gave it to me for Christmas one year. I spent many happy hours under the duvet, with a mug of tea, poring through the recipes.

Holidays can be fraught for the family cook, but this cookbook gives lots of constructive advice. Nigella will tell you how to make a Christmas dinner from soup to nuts (or gravy to sprouts) – not to mention providing guidance for the more specialized holidays, like Passover or Eid. This book helped me conquer my aversion to Brussels sprouts – de rigueur for a British Christmas, but previously loathed by me. The secret? Pancetta, Marsala wine and lots of chopped parsley. Recipes for Rhubarb Crumble and Cranberry and White Chocolate Cookies are now a part of my permanent repertoire, and someday I intend to take on the greater challenges of Hot Cross Buns and a Croque-En-Bouche

As I’ve been writing this, I’ve also been flipping through this book – simultaneously experiencing memories (like the time I made Massacre in a Snowstorm three times over the Christmas season) and desire (for all of the tempting recipes I’ve not yet tried).

comfort food: The Soup

whenever the week gets hectic and we need something hearty and comforting to fall back upon (and last us two days), at our house, i turn to what we affectionately call The Soup. it was great during my Summer of No Kitchen and it's great even if you have an indoor 6-burner 2-oven smeg stove. hearty enough to be a meal in and of itself, it's one of the essential comfort and convenience foods in our home.

The Soup

500 grams (1 pound) ground pork

assorted fresh (or dried) herbs - thyme, sage, oregano, parsley - chopped finely

chili powder to taste (can be left out if children prefer it without)

1 medium onion, diced

3-4 cloves of garlic, minced

1 good quality vegetable bouillon cube

1 can good quality tomatoes

1.5 liters of water

4-5 medium potatoes, peeled and grated

1 package frozen spinach

salt & pepper to taste

brown the pork, then add the onions and garlic and continue to sauté until softened and fragrant. add the chopped herbs, chili and the bouillon cube. add the can of tomatoes and the water. i generally boil the kettle and add hot water to speed the cooking process, it also helps to add the grated potato to hot water, as it stops it from going brown. i tend to grate the potatoes directly into the pot, but if you're lucky enough to live a place where you can buy frozen hashbrowns, they're very convenient and you can use them. we just don't happen to have them in denmark, so i grate fresh potatoes. add the frozen spinach. you can also use fresh spinach, but since you're going to simmer for at least an hour, frozen is just as good and a lot less work.

it's ready to eat after about an hour. and we serve it with a good dollop of creme fraiche (sour cream) or thick greek yogurt and a good loaf of bread. it makes a meal. i also add a spoonful of chiu chow chili oil (a chinese condiment which i highly recommend for its heat and slightly smoky flavor - look for it in an asian market) to give it extra kick (especially on the occasions when i leave out the chili for sabin's sake) and because i'm a bit addicted to chili.

i can also see from my photo that i added a can of beans on that occasion to make it even heartier, so you can do that as well, but i don't do it every time, it's really a matter of what you feel like. i've also read that you shouldn't reheat spinach (something about the nitrates), but i'll admit here and now that we reheat it the next day every single time we make the dish and have never had a problem. it tastes even more delicious on the second day, when the flavors have had a chance to meld. it's really the perfect dinner on a busy, autumn day.

A is for a lot more apples: Apple Pie

I’m not saying that my family isn’t equal opportunity when it comes to desserts, because we are, but apple pie is definitely one of our very favorite things.

Although apples are available year-round now, we do tend to eat a lot more of them in the autumn . . . just as we gorge ourselves with berries in the summer and crave citrus in the winter. I may not think of making an apple pie for months, but the minute the leaves start changing I crave the crisp, tart taste of apples dusted with cinnamon.

I love the way that the changing seasons can allow us to feel connected – whether we are in England, Denmark, California, Wisconsin or points in between. Julochka’s luscious apple post started me obsessing about apples – and the celebration of the apple has just carried on from there. This week alone, I’ve made two apple pies, apple butter and apple whole wheat muffins. I can’t wait to make Christina’s apple crostata on Saturday night. I’ve no idea why I’m suffering from a cold, because I’ve eaten enough apples to keep the doctor away until January at least!

Although I get inspired by trying new recipes, I found MY true apple pie several years ago in the New York Cookbook. I’ve occasionally made a different apple pie, but my kids always complain when I do. This pie was served at the Algonquin Hotel, famed for its literary “round table.” Algonquin regular Dorothy Parker was known for her tart tongue, and I’ve often wondered if she ate this pie. Somehow I think she had too much gin and black coffee . . . and not nearly enough pie.

The Algonquin’s Famous Apple Pie

Ingredients:

CRUST
2 cups all-purpose or plain flour (note: I find that 2 2/3 cup is better because of the difference in flour here in England)
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon salt
4 ounces butter
4 ounces solid vegetable shortening
a few ounces of ice water

FILLING
8-10 medium apples, peeled, cored, and thinly sliced
1 tablespoon grated lemon zest
4 ounces sugar
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
1 ½ ounces butter, cut into small pieces
Sugar and flour, for dusting the top of the pie

Method:
Start with the crust.
In a large bowl, stir together the flour, sugar and salt. With a pastry cutter (or the food processor) cut the butter and shortening into the flour mixture until it starts resembling small peas. Add the ice water, a spoonful at a time, and mix as little as possible until the crust comes together into a rough boll.

Divide the crust into two balls and cover them with plastic wrap or wax paper. Refrigerate for 30 minutes.

I am tolerant and even supportive of certain shortcuts in cooking, but it really makes a difference if you make your own piecrust. Also, it is NOT that difficult. There are a few tricks, and one of them is to keep all of your ingredients really cold. I put a metal mixing bowl and my pastry cutter in the refrigerator for half an hour or so before I get started. Also, the butter and shortening should be refrigerator temperature. Stick your water in a cup and put it in the freezer until it is really, really cold. Now you’re ready.


This is one of the best pie crusts I’ve ever tasted. Yes, I am prepared to make that statement. The combination of half butter/half shortening gives you great taste and a really flaky, light crust. The dough has a silken texture and is fairly easy to work with. If it is too sticky, add more flour. You may need to experiment a bit because the gluten content in flour can vary. You should only need to lightly flour your rolling pin and your surface (I put down greaseproof paper). If the dough is really sticking, it needs more flour.

When your pie crust is ready to roll out, start preheating your oven to 450F/220 C.

Thinly slice the apples, and then toss them with the lemon zest, sugar and spices. Have them ready in a bowl when you start rolling out your pie crust.

I’ve used all kinds of apples with this pie, but I like cox or gala or braeburn – whatever is in season when you make it, really.

Roll out each ball of dough into an approximately 13 inch circle ¼ inch thick. The dough is easy to “patch” together, so you needn’t worry about perfection. I use a ceramic pie dish that measures 10 inches across the top, and that is a good size for this pie.

When your bottom crust is in place, layer in the apples. Then dot the surface of the apples with an ounce of cut-up butter.

Carefully apply the top crust, and pinch both sides together. Dot the top of the crust with the rest of the butter – about a tablespoon (half an ounce) worth. Then sprinkle lightly with about a small spoonful of flour and sugar.

Bake the pie for 15 minutes at the really hot temperature, and then reduce the oven to 350F/175 C. Cook for 30 more minutes, or until the pasty is light gold in color.

Absolutely delicious hot or cold – and particularly good for breakfast!