Here's the recipe for 24 of my mini apple pies...
For the filling you need 6 bramley apples (peeled and chopped), the juice of two lemons, half a cinnamon stick (or equivalent ground cinnamon), 2 or 3 cloves, a pinch of nutmeg and some demerara sugar. Put everything but the sugar in a pan and heat gently until it all disintigrates into mush, you will probably need to add a little water. Once it's mushy remove the cinnamon sticks and cloves and add demerara sugar in small amounts until it tastes right to you.
While that's all mushifying you can make the pastry. Rub 10oz Stork Hard Margarine (or fat of your choice) into 20oz self raising flour (plus a smidge of salt) and then add enough water to make a dough. (I did this in two batches as that's a lot of pastry plus I only have one 12 pie mini pie tin thingy).
Then get creative with pastry cutters and a mini-pie tin. I brushed milk on top of my pies and added a sprinkle of demerara for crunchy tops. Then bung them in an oven at 180degreesC for ooh about long enough to get golden brown on top.
PS I make no apology for the Imperial measurements. Bloody foreigners. Grams? Grams? Is that a sensible unit of measurement for flour? I don't effin' think so.
Mmm pie.
Thursday 24 February 2011
Tuesday 22 February 2011
Sea, stones and apple pies.
This weekend Wuffacynn held a blot to the goddess Ran on a beach in Suffolk. Ran is a goddess of the sea who takes drowned sailors to her hall.
The waves churned and heaved themselves over each other onto the beach, sucking at the stones with a roar while the wind whipped the salt from the water into our faces.
Bloody hell it was cold.
About twenty of us braved the chill and many great toasts were made; we told of ancestors lost at sea and Ran was hailed loudly. We offered sprats to the wights of the ocean and scattered flowers on the waves in memory of those who have died at sea over the centuries.
Afterwards we huddled round our cars for the feast. Everyone had pulled together a lovely spread as per usual, with those who'd brought along camping stoves and hot food and tea topping my favourite people list. I took apple pies ...
... which disappeared at a fair old rate. Maybe I'll post the recipe sometime!
The waves churned and heaved themselves over each other onto the beach, sucking at the stones with a roar while the wind whipped the salt from the water into our faces.
Bloody hell it was cold.
About twenty of us braved the chill and many great toasts were made; we told of ancestors lost at sea and Ran was hailed loudly. We offered sprats to the wights of the ocean and scattered flowers on the waves in memory of those who have died at sea over the centuries.
Afterwards we huddled round our cars for the feast. Everyone had pulled together a lovely spread as per usual, with those who'd brought along camping stoves and hot food and tea topping my favourite people list. I took apple pies ...
... which disappeared at a fair old rate. Maybe I'll post the recipe sometime!
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