ah, fall in the Pacific Northwest. no, the frost isn’t on the pumpkin—yet. but the rain is overflowing the gutters, already laden with pine needles. the leaves of many colors are plastered on the lawn (which is blessedly green again), beaten down from heavy precipitation. our resident rabbits’ cotton tails? completely vanished. the entire warren running rampant and undetected as they blend into the drab landscape. on occasion, there’s a rare glimpse of sunshine. and i experienced one of those golden moments just the other day.
i’d been contemplating what to do with the remaining sugar pie pumpkins i’d picked up at Jones Creek Farm. the cooking-project criteria: creative. a little bit of a challenge. and, oh yeah, delicious. i dug out my recipe binders. pumpkin soup. nope. pumpkin fudge. nope. pumpkin bread. pumpkin pie. nope, nope. pumpkin cheesecake. save for Thanksgiving. pumpkin ravioli. now we’re talkin’.
i began by filling the house with the smell of baked pumpkin. nice. things were already looking up. then, i combined what i felt were the best components of four different recipes to come up with the variation you find here: a sparkling pumpkin ravioli true north. it’s delicate yet rich. with fragrant herbs and a wonderful burst of fall flavors to brighten up any soggy day.
Pumpkin-filled Ravioli with Butter, Sage and Toasted Pine Nuts
a variation based on recipes from Wolfgang Puck, Mario Batali, Giada De Laurentiis and Martha Stewart
INGREDIENTS
for filling
1 small sugar pie pumpkin (about 1 pound) (or 1 1/2 cups pumpkin puree)
1 cup heavy cream
1 teaspoon fresh minced thyme leaves
1 tablespoon minced fresh sage leaves
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 cup grated Parrano cheese (or Parmesan cheese)
2 tablespoons butter
salt
pepper
for basic egg pasta
(i made this with my KitchenAid stand mixer and pasta roller attachment, according to the recipe in the provided instructions. there are certainly other recipes and methods, including purchasing sheets of pasta.)
1 3/4 cups of unbleached organic flour
2 eggs
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 tablespoon water (this is what the KitchenAid recipe calls for; i used nearly 2 1/2 tablespoons to get the desired consistency)
1 egg beaten lightly for egg wash
for sauce
1 stick butter
2 tablespoons of the leftover pasta cooking water
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
8 sage leaves
for topping
1/4 cup pine nuts
DIRECTIONS
- preheat oven to 350F.
- remove stem from pumpkin, and cut in half.
- scoop out seeds. (here are a few neat ideas for toasting the seeds as snacks.)
- brush surface of each half with sunflower oil.
- cover cookie sheet with non-stick foil, and place pumpkin on the cookie sheet pulp side down.
- bake for about 1 hour, 10 minutes or until the pumpkin is soft. (Mario’s recipe says to cook the pumpkin for 30 minutes; i don’t know how the pumpkin would soften in that amount of time, but wanted to call it out.)
- after the pumpkin has cooled, remove pulp and transfer into a food processor.
- puree the pumpkin.
- turn the pumpkin into a medium saucepan and add heavy cream and herbs.
- cook over low heat for approximately 1 hour, or until the mixture is thick, and the liquid has evaporated. stir occasionally to prevent scorching. (be careful of the splatting hot pumpkin mixture, even at low heat.)
- remove from heat and stir in 2 tablespoons of butter, cheese and nutmeg; salt and pepper to taste; set aside to cool.
- make pasta sheets with your chosen methodology. it’s recommended that the sheets be rolled as thinly as possible.
- cut the pasta into two sheets and place on a floured surface (i dust parchment paper with flour and place the pasta sheets there).
- brush one of the sheets with the egg wash.
- using a teaspoon, place 24 equal mounds of the pumpkin mixture on the egg-washed dough, about 2 inches apart.
- cover the mounded dough with the second sheet of pasta, and press around the mounds of pumpkin to seal the dough together.
- using a sharp knife or a biscuit cutter, cut the ravioli into squares or circles.
- press edges together to seal. (i was paranoid of the filling coming out in the boiling water, so i actually crimped the edges with a fork.)
- preheat oven to 350F and toast the pine nuts until light, golden brown, about 5 minutes; set aside.
- bring 6 quarts of water to a boil; add some salt to the boiling water.
- drop ravioli in the water and cook for about 4 minutes. remove the ravioli with a slotted spoon, saving the water.
- while pasta cooks, melt the stick of butter in a 12- to 14-inch saute pan with high sides, until the butter begins to foam; be careful not to burn the butter.
- add 2 tablespoons of pasta water and balsamic vinegar to the butter and whisk to emulsify.
- add sage leaves and ravioli to the pan, tossing gently for about 1 minute to coat pasta with the sauce.
- divide ravioli among four warmed plates, and top with pine nuts; serve immediately.
from the onset, my younger sister had it all. towheaded and adorable, adults doted on her. they’d bend down and swoop her into their arms, gushing, oh, isn’t she cute? (she was, of course.) and then look directly at me and say, and you’re very smart and so grown up. aside from the long-term self-image issues best addressed by a professional (don’t worry, i got over it on my own), the adults didn’t realize what an utter imp my sister truly was.
already beginning to turn from towhead to brunette.
tasked with watching her during outdoor play time, she’d constantly vanish: one minute in the yard, the next, gone. when i first experienced these disappearing acts, i’d panic. i am the responsible scout; i let her out of my sight. i would scour the neighborhood on foot or by bicycle in my quest to locate her. what i would have given back then for an electronic tracking device and matching ankle bracelet. (anyone who knows my sister knows how much she loves to accessorize.) i’d discover her a few doors down, then a few blocks, then a mile. like Monopoly and Scrabble, this game became one of our family rituals. i imagine we were a lot like other siblings: the youngest would break something and look innocently and adorably at the parents with wide eyes and say the eldest had done it. uh-huh.
we got older. my sister’s hair got darker. and our lives went in entirely different directions. eventually, she matured—mostly—and found her own true north. now, we talk often, and look fondly and wistfully back on our childhoods. i’ve almost forgiven her for bobbing all my dolls’ hair. but not quite. former little blondie, this one’s for you.
Blondies
from a Cook’s Illustrated recipe
the blondies are an easy-to-make, rich, sweet treat. delightful with a cup of tea. or for my dear Seattle friends, a robust cup of freshly brewed coffee.
per the recipe’s instructions, be very careful not to overbake; blondies dry out easily and will turn hard (ack). begin to check the oven several minutes before the bars are supposed to be done (mine baked in 20 minutes).
INGREDIENTS
1 cup pecans or walnuts
1 1/2 cups unbleached organic flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
12 tablespoons butter (1 1/2 sticks), melted and cooled
1 1/2 cups packed light brown sugar
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
4 teaspoons vanilla extract
6 ounces white chocolate bar (1 cup), chopped or 3 ounces each white chocolate (e.g., El Rey Icoa/White) and semisweet chocolate (e.g., Scharffen Berger) bars, chopped
DIRECTIONS
- adjust oven rack to middle position; heat oven to 350F.
- spread nuts on large rimmed baking sheet, and bake until golden brown, about 10 minutes.
- transfer nuts to cutting board to cool; chop and set aside.
(i followed this guidance, but after tasting the blondies, i would have preferred not to toast the nuts; clearly a personal choice.) - while the nuts toast, line a 13 by 9-inch pan with non-stick foil (more complex directions available from Cook’s Illustrated), so the blondies can be lifted out of the pan after they’re baked.
- whisk flour, baking powder and salt together in a medium bowl; set aside.
- whisk melted butter and brown sugar together in a medium bowl until combined.
- add eggs and vanilla and mix well.
- using a rubber spatula, fold dry ingredients into egg mixture until just combined. be careful not to overmix.
- fold in chocolate and nuts.
- turn batter into prepared pan, smoothing top with spatula.
- bake until top is shiny, cracked and a light golden brown, about 22 – 25 minutes.
(would like to reiterate that mine came out perfectly after 20 minutes.) - cool on wire rack to room temperature.
- remove from pan by lifting foil overhang and transfer to cutting board.
- cut into 2-inch squares and serve!
as a nine year old, i thought my macaroni and cheese casserole reigned supreme. a recipe from the tattered pages of my mother’s Better Homes and Gardens Casserole Cookbook, Best-Ever Macaroni and Cheese took Velveeta to previously unattained heights. my family piled on the praise when i served it. or was that because none of them had to cook that night? and over the years, it’s become the most-requested comfort food of family and friends.
about a week ago, as i strolled through the isles of the local organic market, i spied a display of cheese piled high. unable to resist, i made a beeline for the stack, where i discovered Beecher’s Flagship Reserve. crafted by artisan cheesemakers at Pike Place Market in Seattle, the buttery, award-winning Flagship Reserve is pure heaven. i suddenly had an epiphany: to create the supreme northwest macaroni and cheese dish, with the Flagship Reserve as the star ingredient. when i excitedly told my friend Amy about my new cheese discovery, she said, “oh, yeah, i think Beecher’s has a recipe for mac and cheese using Flagship Reserve.” of course they do. Amy found the recipe for me online, and i couldn’t wait for the weekend to get cooking!
my mom and i drove down to Pike Place Market and picked up the cheese at Beecher’s. t
hen we went back to the grocery store to complete our shopping. we first maneuvered through the produce section, and nearly bypassed the seafood counter, UNTIL something pretty and pink caught my eye. 
oh, my gosh. are those fresh Alaskan King Crab Legs? just flown in this morning, said our cheery seafood specialist. i looked at my mom and said with some trepidation, let’s splurge. we got a two-pound cluster and headed for the checkout, before there was any further collateral damage. oh, the price of comfort food.
your macaroni and cheese true north may be filled with gooey Velveeta and topped with seasoned bread crumbs, cherry tomatoes and paprika. or your heart may call you to fulfill your mac-and-cheese destiny with some yet unarticulated recipe. for me, both ways are just about perfect.
i can only describe the following recipe as creamy, rich and deliciously decadent. hope you enjoy it as much as we did.
Perfect Northwest Macaroni and Cheese
a variation based on a recipe from Pure Flavor (i’d invite you to review the original recipe as the spice blend differs from my approach.)
INGREDIENTS
12 ounces penne pasta
for sauce
1/4 cup (1/2 stick) butter
1/3 cup unbleached, organic flour
3 cups whole milk
14 ounces grated Beecher’s Flagship Reserve cheese (0r cheddar cheese); about 3 1/2 cups
2 ounces grated Beecher’s Just Jack cheese
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
for topping
2 ounces grated cheddar cheese
2 ounces grated Gruyere cheese
1/4 cup plain breadcrumbs
optional
fresh Alaskan King Crab legs (of the 2-pound cluster purchased, i used half of the actual crab meat in the casserole)
DIRECTIONS
- preheat oven to 350F.
- butter a 3-quart baking casserole dish. (original recipe recommends a 13-by-9-inch pan. i used a 2-quart casserole and ended up with leftover sauce.)
- melt the butter in a medium-size saucepan over medium heat.
- whisk in the flour and continue to whisk for 2 minutes.
- slowly add the milk, whisking constantly.
- continue to stir, and cook until the sauce thickens, about 10 minutes.
- remove saucepan from heat.
- stir in the cheeses and spices, until all the cheese has melted, and ingredients are incorporated (about 3 minutes).
- cook the penne pasta until al dente; drain the water, and place pasta in a large bowl.
- pour the sauce over the pasta, add the crab, and mix carefully but thoroughly.
- scrape the pasta into the baking dish.
- sprinkle the topping cheeses over the pasta.
- sprinkle the bread crumbs over the topping cheeses.
- bake uncovered for 20 minutes, or until the top is golden.
- let sit for 5 minutes before serving.
to most children (and retailers), the pumpkin crop serves as Halloween’s welcome-wagon representative and precursor to candy booty. due to this year’s extraordinarily warm weather, Washington state pumpkins arrived prematurely, triggering unprecedented, mid-September Halloween excitement. my friends who are parents formulated strategies to delay trips to local pumpkin patches, or at minimum, to postpone carving, so that the orange fruits would survive until the end of October.
to be honest, Halloween has always been my least-favorite holiday. at our house, it felt like an extravaganza. no, my parents didn’t create a scary haunted house for all the neighborhood kids to frequent (thank goodness). but my mom decorated our front porch with crepe paper and other Hallmark paraphernalia, including a giant honeycomb skull that enveloped one of our lampshades. and mom would put one of those little disks at the base of the light bulb to make it flash off and on. sporting an enormous witch’s hat, she greeted everyone at the front door, oohing over their costumes and tossing handfuls of candy into their goodie bags. to preserve our pumpkins, she’d artfully paint their faces in oils, then place them on the front stoop.
painfully shy, i loathed going door to door to trick or treat. and, unlike my extroverted little sister, i didn’t like dressing up as someone (or something) other than myself. until one Halloween, when my parents felt moved to throw a party for me and a group of my friends. mom and dad transformed our basement playroom into a hip, happening party scene. mom made me a costume that matched the outfit of my Mattel Scooba-do talking doll—a scat-singing, long-black-haired beatnik. at the party, we all bobbed for apples. danced to groovy music from The Monkees. and chowed down on never-ending party snacks. even with my sister underfoot, the party rocked. and i’ll always cherish the memory.
clearly for me, the best part of the upcoming holiday is the pumpkins. you’ll find my first recipe of the season here.
an endnote: c’mon, sis – did Scooba-do or any of my other Mattel toys, like my red-headed, bubblecut Barbie, really need haircuts?
Pumpkin Bread Pudding
a variation based on a recipe from everyday FOOD
INGREDIENTS
1 baguette (8 ounces), sliced 1/2 thick (i actually cut the slices into more bite-size pieces)
4 large eggs
4 cups half-and-half
2 cups fresh pumpkin puree, extracted from one good-size sugar pie pumpkin (or 1 15-ounce can of pumpkin puree)
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 cup packed light-brown sugar
2 heaping teaspoons cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ginger
1/8 teaspoon nutmeg
1/8 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup dried tart dried cherries or dried cranberries
DIRECTIONS
- preheat oven to 350F.
- remove stem from pumpkin, and cut in half.
- scoop out seeds. (here are a few neat ideas for toasting the seeds as snacks.)
- brush surface of each half with sunflower oil.
- cover cookie sheet with non-stick foil, and place pumpkin on the cookie sheet pulp side down.
- bake for about 1 hour, 10 minutes or until the pumpkin is soft.
- after the pumpkin has cooled, remove pulp and transfer into a food processor.
- puree the pumpkin, and set aside.
- butter a 2-quaret shallow or 8-inch square baking dish; set aside.
- toast bread on baking sheet at 300F, turning occasionally, until lightly browned (20 – 25 minutes). note: instead of this approach, i just use a stale baguette.
- in a large bowl, whisk together eggs, half and half, pumpkin puree, vanilla, brown sugar, spices and salt.
- add the bread to the bowl, and cover with plastic wrap, pressing it directly onto the surface of the mixture.
- place a plate small enough to fit inside bowl on top of plastic wrap, then weight down with a can. this ensures the bread will soak up the custard and results in a velvety consistency.
- place in fridge, and let the mixture soak until saturated, about 25 minutes.
- if you haven’t used the oven yet, preheat to 300F.
- transfer mixture to prepared baking dish, spreading evenly.
- sprinkle the dried fruit over the mixture, allowing some to sink in.
- bake on a rimmed baking sheet until firm, and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean, 60 – 70 minutes.
serve this comforting, sweetly spiced autumn pudding warm or at room temperature, dusted with confectioners’ sugar and/or top with whipped cream. or a splash of half-and-half. of course, appropriate for breakfast, lunch or dinner.
barbecue: it’s personal. controversial. food wars have been fought over it and those who have won, crowned victorious. the bottom line? there really isn’t anything better than a tender, succulent pulled-pork sandwich. at least, not in this scout’s handbook. i can’t say i’ve traveled far and wide in search of the perfect pig sandwich, because that would be a fib. suffice it to say i’ve done Austin. and all parts of North Carolina. and yeah, they have some pretty tasty barbecue. but you don’t have to be south of the Mason-Dixon Line to find the kind of pork that tantalizes the tongue and makes the heart sing. you can be right in downtown Seattle.
on Monday – Friday, at the southeast corner of 2nd and Pike (hours, weekend locations), you’ll find Maximus-Minimus—a fusion of the visions of Seattle food entrepreneur Kurt Beecher Dammeier and designer Colin Reedy. this urban-assault pig (i.e., riveted, sci-fi retro, steel-clad pork mobile) serves up a very simple menu of bold flavors, which i recently had the opportunity to try for the first time on a rare excursion downtown.
heading into Seattle on a brisk, windy day with a bald head and without a hat didn’t earn me the scouting preparedness badge (yes, it’s street food and literally standing room only). i wasn’t starved when i arrived; i just wanted that little something. so, i ordered a pulled-pork Minimus sandwich, with a side of Maximus slaw. 
the pork: rubbed, grilled and then braised. Minimus style? super tender, smoky-flavored (thanks to the addition of lapsang-souchong tea) pork coated in a tangy, sweet sauce of tamarind, honey and molasses, topped with sprigs of cilantro and served on a fresh, soft bun. if your taste buds crave spice, you can consider the Maximus option. the bright, crunchy Minimus slaw (a mix of cabbage, radish, cilantro, onion and parsley)—splashed with a feisty light chipotle vinaigrette—popped pleasantly in my mouth.
the tidy little menu also includes chips (thinly sliced potatoes, beets and sweet potatoes, fried in rice oil, topped with fried green beans and jalapeños) and two drinks (ginger lemonade and hibiscus nectar). i plan to bring more of a hearty appetite on my next jaunt to Seattle.
to each, his or her own barbecue true north. for me, i’ll fondly remember Maximus-Minimus’s pig’s feet on the street. (i even enjoyed the leftovers.) perhaps the license plate sums it up best: some pig.
for pure, simple, delicious Pacific Northwest barbecue, you can track the pig: Twitter and Facebook.
as you’ve likely discerned from my posts, i have an affinity for all things tart. and raspberries are no exception. they, along with hearty rhubarb, grew wild and uncontrollably in my parents’ Massachusetts backyard. my dad would cut the plants back, and they’d reappear more robust and plentiful than ever, mocking his every effort to contain them. much like one of his children, but that’s another story entirely. in the early morning, i’d go out and carefully pick the raspberries, so we could toss them on our cereal. or after dinner, on our ice cream. i think my dad was secretly elated that the berries refused to vacate the premises.
this season’s northwest berries have sadly vanished. but i found some rather puckery California raspberries to help me bid a fond farewell to the wonderfully temperate weather.
the rustic tart pastry was flaky and just melted in my mouth. i found handling the dough a bit challenging, though; kind of fussy when pulsed it in the food processor, apparently one too many times. think it recovered nicely, when i added a little flour.
Rustic Raspberry Tart
a slight variation on a kerrygold recipe
INGREDIENTS
1 cup unbleached organic flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
6 tablespoons cold unsalted kerrygold butter (i used european-style butter)
1 large egg yoke (reserve the egg white)
3 – 5 tablespoons water
2 cups fresh raspberries
3 tablespoons sugar
2 teaspoons flour
DIRECTIONS
- preheat oven to 400F.
- in a food processor, combine flour and salt.
- add butter, pulsing until mixture resembles coarse meal.
- slowly add egg yoke and water, one teaspoon at a time; process until dough clumps together and begins to form a ball.
- gather dough and place on a sheet of flour-dusted plastic wrap.
- flatten dough into a disk about 6 inches wide.
- place another piece of plastic wrap, floured side down, on dough.
- with rolling pin, flatten into an even 11- to 12-inch round; lift and smooth plastic wrap and continue rolling as needed.
- remove top sheet of wrap and invert dough into a 2 x 15-inch baking sheet lined with parchment (i just used a cookie sheet); remove remaining plastic wrap.
- place raspberries in center of pastry, leaving a 2-inch border.
- in a small bowl, mix sugar and flour; sprinkle evenly over the berries.
- gently (truly be vigilant, as the pastry seemed very fragile) fold the edges of the pastry over the berries, pleating the edges as you go. leave a 4- to 6-inch-wide opening in center.
- brush pastry with reserved egg white; sprinkle some sugar over the pastry.
- bake on the lower oven rack until crust is golden and juices bubble, around 25 minutes.
- cool on sheet for at least 15 minutes.
- while tart is still warm, use a wide spatula to loosen tart from pan and transfer to a serving platter.
cut in wedges and serve warm, dusted with powdered sugar or topped with whipped cream. a light, sweet, juicy, tangy after-dinner treat.
in the Pacific Northwest, wild salmon are king (i.e., red chinook or coho or keta or sockeye, to name a few of the species found here). really, salmon are an incredible and tenacious breed. many species spawn in fresh water and grow and thrive at sea, returning home (often to their birthplaces) to rivers and streams to repeat the cycle. to wrinkle my nose at these amazing creatures and their significance to Native American cultures would be sacrilege.
but the truth is that i’ve never been much of a fish eater. i do eat shellfish. like the fried clams my dad and i would religiously grab at coastal New England shacks. or nice plate of scallops. or a petite Maine lobster on a special occasion. beyond that, my seafood intake has been intentionally limited by personal preference. when i moved to Washington state, i didn’t expect my habits to evolve. until the day i went out to lunch with a few new friends, who were (and, of course, enthusiastically remain) native Washingtonians.
i’m usually not one to succumb to peer pressure, but my interest was piqued as these friends touted the salmons’ nutritional value and amazing flavor. i gulped, does it taste fishy? no, not at all!, they proclaimed. while somewhat dubious, i went to the grocery store and purchased some of the season’s first run of Copper River salmon. how was i supposed to cook it?
my mother suggested the broiler. tried that, hated it. i asked another seafood-loving Washingtonian for suggestions: smoke it. this approach actually fit beautifully into my long-term outdoor cooking strategy. after doing some research, i purchased a Traeger pellet grill. with a simple brine of water, brown sugar and Morton’s ice cream salt, the salmon sits in a ziplock bag in the fridge overnight. then, i smoke it with alderwood or maple pellets for about eight hours at 180F. ta-da. probably as close to my salmon true north as i’m going to get. (note: i’ve read some nutritional value is lost in the smoking process, and i’m very conservative with the salt.)
with any leftovers, i make this salmon cake recipe. i’m certain there are many other wonderful ways to make salmon. if you have any recommendations or recipes, i’m game.
Salmon Cakes
a variation based on a crab cake recipe from epicurious.com
INGREDIENTS
1/4 cup mayonnaise
1/4 cup minced green onions
2 large egg yolks
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
4 teaspoons minced fresh cilantro
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
1 tablespoon finely grated lemon peel
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 pound cooked salmon, broken into small pieces
2 cups panko or other breadcrumbs (i use an herb-seasoned blend)
1 tablespoon butter
2 tablespoons (or more) grapeseed oil
DIRECTIONS
- line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
- whisk first 8 ingredients in a medium-size bowl.
- mix in salmon and 1 cup panko (i add a little at a time to ensure the mixture is not too dry).
- let the mixture stand for 10 minutes.
- spread remaining panko on a rimmed baking sheet.
- form mixture into patties 2 inches in diameter, using a scant 1/4 cup for each.
- press both sides of the patties into the panko, then transfer them to the parchment-covered baking sheet.
- cover and chill in fridge for at least an hour or up to a day.
- melt the butter over medium heat in a large frying pan, then add the grapeseed oil.
- place the salmon patties in the pan and cook on each side until golden (around 5 – 6 minutes total); add more butter and oil as needed.
tangy from the lemon and bursting with flavor, this cakes are perfect for a light meal, served with an herb salad that’s splashed with vinaigrette. for more hearty fare, i add a side of cheesy mashed potatoes.
as each day passes, i embrace fall a bit more graciously. i remember my father, who, each year, welcomed fall with open arms. i would help him rake large piles of leaves and was amply rewarded when he let me jump in them. he’d yell and cheer me on as i obliterated all the work we’d done to tidy the yard in the first place. he never complained that he had to rake it all again and would insist that i go in and warm up, instead of helping him finish the task (i’m sure he also thought doing it himself was a heck of a lot faster).
my dad loved to cook, but i think he loved to eat even more. as any good New Englander would say, i always thought it was wicked cool when he would drive us out to the orchards in Bolton or Stow, Massachusetts to pick apples. in retrospect, the apple picking was a pretense; he was really after apple cider donuts and a few generous cups of steaming apple cider. oh, we’d get the apples, but they were tertiary to the other goodies procured at the farms. driving home, the sun would reflect on leaves ablaze with color: orange, red, burgundy, yellow. and sitting in the back seat, i felt content.
i can calculate precisely when i stumbled upon this recipe by the condition of the cookbook that houses it: the cookbook binding, nibbled on by my basset hound, Dewey, when he was a puppy. the pages tarnished from Dewey’s teething and from decades of use. Dewey and my dad have been gone for many years, but they both had an affinity for apple crisp (or for page 280, where the recipe can be found).
apple crisp
a wicked-simple variation based on a recipe from the vegetarian epicure
Alex in the U.K. gathering his Bramleys
INGREDIENTS
5 – 6 medium-size Bramley (or other tart) apples
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup unbleached organic flour
1/2 heaping teaspoon cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon nutmeg
1/8 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup butter (1 stick)
DIRECTIONS
- preheat oven to 350F.
- whisk all the dry ingredients in a medium bowl.
- cut the butter into the dry ingredients, until well combined.
consistency of topping, prebaking
- peel the apples, and slice thinly.
- place the apples only in a round casserole dish.
- sprinkle the mixture over the apples; don’t combine the apples and the mixture.
- cover and bake for 35 or 40 minutes.
- remove the cover, and bake for another 15 or 20 minutes, until the topping is crisp (hence the name) and golden brown.
serve warm, topped with whipped cream, ice cream, or half and half. it’s especially lovely when accompanied by profoundly insightful (and very funny) composer and folk singer Cheryl Wheeler’s When Fall Comes to New England.
according to the Farmers’ Almanac (and no doubt other authoritative scientific resources), autumn has officially arrived. to grudgingly usher in the season, i made my annual trek out to Jones Creek Farm in Sedro-Wooley, WA. 
there, friendly, knowledgeable farmers Les and Talea Price give TLC to their orchard laden with an extensive variety of heirloom apples. while i appreciate Jones Creek’s apple cornucopia, scenic Skagit Valley location and genuinely nice growers, i go out to the orchard for one simple reason: Bramleys.
this year marks the bicentenary of the Bramley apple (i.e., 200 years since British youngster Mary Ann Brailsford planted the pips in her garden that ultimately become the apple tree that bore the fruit that was named after the man who purchased the cottage where the tree was rooted and insisted that the apples be named after him—the abridged version). touted by apple pundits (and by me) as the best cooking apple on the planet, Bramleys retain their tart flavor because they contain more acid and less sugar than their inferior counterparts. and they produce an unbeatable melt-in-your-mouth texture, again, unlike more mundane varieties. somehow, the Bramley apple made it across the pond and to the top of my best-ever-fruits-of-all-time list.
with a bushel of Bramley apples, four sugar pie pumpkins and Elroy in the back of the car, i hightailed it home from Jones Creek Farm. later that afternoon, i made the recipe that follows with only three Bramleys; these guys were mutants. 
i dedicate this pandowdy to my dear friend Alex, a true U.K. renaissance man, who tends his own Bramley apple trees. and whose curiosity and thirst for knowledge have led him on many great adventures, from flying and stone henge site exploration to archaeologic digs. a man of generous spirit and an even bigger heart.
Apple Pandowdy
a dish concocted by combining a recipe from Sunset and one from Emeril Lagasse/Food Network and an idea or two of my own
INGREDIENTS
for the crust
1 1/2 cups unbleached organic flour
1 1/2 tablespoons sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
7 tablespoons cold butter
4 tablespoons ice-cold water (add more as needed)
1 tablespoon sugar for sprinking
for the filling
4 large Bramley apples (or, if you must, 6 – 7 Granny Smith), peeled, cored and thinly sliced
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup light brown sugar, packed
2 tablespoons flour
1 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon nutmeg
1/8 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon butter cut into small pieces
DIRECTIONS
- in a large bowl or food processor, mix the flour, 1 1/2 tablespoons sugar and salt.
- cut the butter into the flour mixture, until coarse crumbs form.
- sprinkle water evenly over the crumb mixture, until a dough forms; add more water, if needed.
- turn dough out onto a lightly floured mat and pat into a flat disk.
- wrap disk in plastic wrap, and place in fridge.
- preheat oven to 350F.
- in a large bowl, toss the apples and lemon juice.
- in a medium bowl, whisk all the filling dry ingredients.
- add the mixture from the medium bowl into the large bowl filled with the apples and lemon juice; toss to coat, and let sit for 10 minutes.
- spoon the apple mixture into a 10-inch-deep ceramic pie dish.
- top the mixture with the small pieces of butter.
- remove dough from fridge and let stand at room temperature until pliable.
- with a lightly floured rolling pin, roll the dough into an 11-inch circle, about 1/4-inch thick.
- place dough on top of apple mixture, rolling edges under (trim off any excess, as needed).
- place pie dish on a cookie sheet covered in non-stick foil, and bake for about 30 minutes, or until crust is golden.
- remove from oven, and with a small, sharp knife, score the crust into 1-inch squares.
- with the back of a spoon, gently press the crust into the filling, so the juice flows over the edges of the squares.
- sprinkle the sugar over the crust, and return to the oven to bake for another 30 minutes, or until the apples are tender when pierced and the juices are thickened.
serve warm, topped with fresh whipped cream or vanilla or cinnamon ice cream. ok, i even like it for breakfast, without anything on it. well, maybe a splash of half and half.
i’m neither psychologist nor psychiatrist. some theorize that who we are is determined when we’re very young; others that our core beliefs and values aren’t fully formed until we’re nearly 20. i affirm that who i am has been shaped, in great part, by those who’ve touched my heart and left an indelible imprint.
at the tender age of eight, as told in previous tales, i began to spend a portion of my summers at girl scout camp. shy, i hung back from large groups of campers, happier to find a few friends with whom i shared burning passions. like cooking over an open flame. and paddling. and music. whether singing grace at the dining hall or songs around the campfire, i poured my heart and soul into every word and note. camp became the wellspring of my repertoire.
in my naivete, i didn’t realize that what i identified as girl scout songs were actually contemporary folk songs. songs that were the expressions of an American generation who wanted to make a difference. weaving the harmonies and the fabric of the stories were Peter, Paul and Mary. and Mary Travers became a role model for this young scout.
i didn’t have her long, straight blonde hair or signature bangs. her willowy form. or her vocal chops. but i did have a burning admiration for her spirit and conviction. she influenced the kind of music i listened to then—and to this day. courageously, she taught me the importance of openly and honestly expressing my point of view. and by exuding a sense of confidence, she inspired me to take a step out of the shadows—at least every now and then.
as an undergraduate, i began to listen to Judy Collins and Joni Mitchell. but i never left Mary behind (Peter and Paul came along, too). i continued to sing the songs, accompanying myself on my too-large Gibson J55 wide-body acoustic. and when i became a camp counselor, i passed on the folk tradition to newbie scouts. If I Had a Hammer. Blowin’ in the Wind. 500 Miles. (i hope you’ll take the time to go see and listen to some of the original videos; they’re so great.)
i was traveling last week when i heard of Mary’s passing. as i watched the CNN ticker pass across the bottom of the screen, vivid memories of Mary and of her impact on my life brought tears and a huge lump in my throat. for the last week, i’ve flipped through the channels night after night, hoping that someone would broadcast a tribute to my folk hero. media disappointment prompted me to seek out YouTube videos and to watch a 2004 PBS special i had recorded last spring (Peter, Paul and Mary: Carry it on, a musical legacy). the passion and commitment expressed through Mary’s music will live on. in me. and in all those others to whom she was a divine inspiration.
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