Apple pie, of course.

I once disliked pie. Or at least, I wouldn’t go out of my way for it. Cream and custard pies were OK because the crust served as transport for the goodness within. Fruit pies–meh. A lot of people and restaurants use pre-made flavorless (or worse, freezer-tasting) shells, and a lot of the homemade crusts I’d sampled were tough, underbaked, overbaked–just not good. I could never understand why “pie and coffee” was such a thing–especially if you could have cake instead.

And then, one fateful year, a friend who grew up on a farm in Iowa brought a homemade pie to a birthday celebration. An apple pie. A LIFE-CHANGING pie. At least, it changed my life. I went from thinking pie was inherently disappointing to knowing that pie can be…a revelation.

Before the evening was over, we had agreed to a skill trade. I offered to teach her how to use her pressure canner if she would teach me how to make THAT pie.

What I learned from that experience (aside from the recipe, which–sorry, I’m not going to publish) is what I like in a pie crust. Crispy, flaky, and yeah…just a little bit porky. Did I mention my friend is from Iowa?

Since then, I’ve decided that buying a chunk of lard from a local hog farmer and rendering it myself is totally worthwhile because I can freeze and wrap it in the 1/2 cup measure needed to make a double crust–which can be used for one apple pie or two single-crust pies. Or a pie and a quiche!

The crust mastered, I needed a source of apples.

I’ve planted apple trees just about everywhere I’ve ever lived…and then moved away from. But here in the canyon, we have an apple tree that sprung up years ago from a fluke of a seed washed downstream and embedded in the bank. It has been growing for a few decades now, occasionally throwing up a new trunk to replace the broken or dying main stem.

Beavers took out a part of it, and it has since been screened to prevent that kind of casualty. Two years ago in the late winter we topped it because so many of the apples were too far out of reach. This year it gave us another wonderful harvest. We don’t water it because it’s right by the water. Just this year it decided to start a new tree from its own roots about ten feet from the main trunk.

It’s kinda miraculous. Like a really good pie.

The apples it produces (a large crop biennially) are superb–crisp and sweet with a little tart edge that make them great for just about anything–fresh eating of course, but also the plain, unsweetened apple sauce I put up for my husband, apple butter sweetened with a touch of maple syrup we often give as gifts, and the homemade apple pie we both adore–he for dessert à la mode, and I for breakfast with slices of sharp cheddar cheese.

It’s sad there’s so much crappy pie in the world, and it seems like people don’t even realize how crummy it is. Maybe they had some really good pie once, and they’re always chasing–hoping to re-live that experience. Or maybe they just don’t know that there’s some truly amazing pie out there that could change their life…and probably spoil their appetite for the usual restaurant pie-and-coffee.