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That's generally what a boycott means.. just FYI.
mmmm pie.Apple pie
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This article is about the food. For other uses, see Apple pie (disambiguation).
Apple pie with lattice upper crust
Tarte Tatin, a French variation on apple pie
An apple pie is a fruit pie (or tart) in which the principal filling ingredient is apples. It is sometimes served with whipped cream or ice cream on top. Pastry is generally used top-and-bottom, making it a double-crust pie, the upper crust of which may be a disk shaped crust or a pastry lattice woven of strips; exceptions are deep-dish apple pie with a top crust only, and open-face Tarte Tatin.
Contents
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- 1 Ingredients
- 2 Apple pie in American culture
- 3 See also
- 4 References
- 5 External links
Ingredients
Cooking apples (culinary apples, colloquially cookers), such as the Bramley or Granny Smith, are crisp and acidic. The fruit for the pie can be fresh, canned, or recons uted from dried apples. This affects the final texture, and the length of cooking time required; whether it has an effect on the flavour of the pie is a matter of opinion. Dried or preserved apples were originally subs uted only at times when fresh fruit was unavailable.
The English pudding
"For to Make Tartys in Applis", 18th century print of a 14th century recipe
English apple pie recipes go back to the time of Chaucer. The 1381 recipe (see illustration at right) lists the ingredients as good apples, good es, figs, raisins and pears. The cofyn of the recipe is a casing of pastry. Saffron is used for colouring the pie filling.
In English speaking countries, apple pie is a dessert of enduring popularity, eaten hot or cold, on its own or with ice cream, double cream, or cus .
Absence of sugar in early English recipe
Most modern recipes for apple pie require an ounce or two of sugar, but the earliest recipe does not. There are two possible reasons.
Sugarcane imported from Egypt was not widely available in 14th century England, where it cost between one and two shillings per pound — this is roughly the equivalent of US$100 per kg (about US$50 per pound) in today's prices.[1]
The absence of sugar in the recipe may instead indicate that, because refined sugar was a recent introduction from the Orient, the medieval English did not have quite as sweet a tooth as their descendants. Honey, which was many times cheaper, is also absent from the recipe, and the "good es" and saffron, all imported, were no less expensive and difficult to obtain than refined sugar. Despite the expense, refined sugar did appear much more often in published recipes of the time than honey, suggesting that it was not considered prohibitively expensive. With the exception of apples and pears, all the ingredients in the filling probably had to be imported. And perhaps, as in some modern "sugar-free" recipes, the juice of the pears was intended to sweeten the pie.
Dutch style
A home-baked Dutch apple pie
Dutch apple pie in Chiang Mai, Thailand, showing the filling
Dutch apple pie (appeltaart or appelgebak) recipes are distinct in that they typically call for flavourings such as cinnamon and lemon juice to be added. Dutch apple pies are usually decorated in a lattice style. Dutch apple pies may include ingredients such as raisins and icing, in addition to ingredients such as apples and sugar, which they have in common with other recipes.[citation needed]
Recipes for Dutch apple pie go back centuries. There exists a painting from the Dutch Golden Age, dated 1626, featuring such a pie.
The basis of Dutch apple pie is a crust on the bottom and around the edges. This is then filled with pieces or slices of apple, usually a crisp and mildly tart variety such as Goudreinet or Elstar. Cinnamon and sugar are generally mixed in with the apple filling. The filling can be sprinkled with liqueur for taste although this is very uncommon. Atop the filling, strands of dough cover the pie in a lattice, holding the filling in place but keeping it visible. Though it can be eaten cold, warmed is more common, with a dash of whipped cream or vanilla ice cream. In the Netherlands it is usually eaten cold, sometimes with whipped cream on top.
Swedish style
The Swedish style apple pie differs from the English and Dutch style, in that it uses no pastry and hence has no crust. Simply, the apples are sliced and placed in the baking dish, the lightly- ed dough is mixed and then poured over the apples, and the whole lot placed in a pre-heated oven, making for quick and simple preparation and cooking. The resultant pie is akin to a hot cake, where by the apples are held in suspension and softened by the dough.
Apple pie in American culture
An apple pie is one of a number of United States cultural icons.
In the English colonies the apple pie had to wait for carefully planted pips, brought in barrels across the Atlantic, to become fruit-bearing apple trees, to be selected for their cooking qualities. In the meantime, the colonists were more likely to make their pies, or "pasties", of meat rather than of fruit; and the main use for apples, once they were available, was in cider. But there are American apple-pie recipes, both manuscript and printed, from the eighteenth century, and it has since become a very popular dessert.
A mock apple pie made from crackers was apparently invented by pioneers on the move during the nineteenth century who were bereft of apples. In the 1930s, and for many years afterwards, Ritz Crackers promoted a recipe for mock apple pie using its product, along with sugar and various es.
Although apple pies have been eaten since long before the European colonization of the Americas, "as American as apple pie" is a saying in the United States, meaning "typically American".[2] The dish was also commemorated in the phrase "for Mom and apple pie" - supposedly the stock answer of American soldiers in World War II, whenever journalists asked why they were going to war.[3]
Advertisers exploited the patriotic connection in the 1970s with the commercial jingle "baseball, hot dogs, apple pie and Chevrolet". There are claims that the Apple Marketing Board of New York State used such slogans as "An apple a day keeps the doctor away" and "as American as apple pie!", and thus "was able to successfully 'rehabilitate' the apple as a popular comestible" in the early twentieth century when prohibition outlawed the production of cider.
The unincorporated community of Pie Town, New Mexico is named in honor of the apple pie.
That's generally what a boycott means.. just FYI.
I guess you can't teach a re new tricks after all.:
I barely knew Christine when she turned up at my door at around eight o'clock on the night of Halloween. We'd met for the first and only time three months earlier when my two roommates and I signed the lease on our apartment: Christine's aunt owned the place we were moving into, and she happened to be up from Delaware visiting at the time. But we'd only spent about five minutes together that day and we hadn't spoken much, and I hadn't thought of her since.
Yet here she was standing outside my door with a friend. And both of them were pretty tipsy.
She asked if she and her friend could come inside our apartment to change into their costumes. She couldn't change at her aunt's place, she said, because she was sleeping and she didn't want to wake her up. Would we mind if she used our bathroom instead?
It was a pretty strange request. Sure, weird stuff happens on Halloween, but I barely knew her, and it isn't every day that someone shows up at your front door and asks to change into their ladybug costume. But I told her it was fine and she was welcome to use our place to get ready.
It didn't take long before the two women—who'd clearly been drinking—were sitting on my couch, beers in hand, trying to convince my roommate and me to join them for a night on the town. Christine was in the holiday spirit dressed in her ladybug outfit. Her friend, who had a female pirate costume on, was much more quiet and reserved. She barely spoke all night.
It was a Wednesday evening, and my roommate and I hadn't been planning to go out. We both had to get up pretty early the next morning for work. But Christine was insistent that we join them, and she wasn't taking no for an answer. "Come on, guys! Let's go! Just throw something on!" she said.
The costume that I wore for the Halloween a year before—a boy scout's uniform that belonged to a friend—was still sitting in my closet. So that made it easy. But my roommate had no idea what to put on.
Christine immediately came up with an idea. She pointed to a cardboard box in the kitchen—the kind that 12-packs of Coca-Cola come in—and told him to cut a hole in the middle and put it on top of his head. We weren't sure what she was suggesting.
"You can go as a cokehead!" she said, bursting into laughter.
With our costume situation sorted out, we headed to South Street, where lots of bars in Philadelphia are located. Half an hour later, the four of us were seated at a table and knocking back beers.
It really didn't take very long for Christine to make her move. She'd grabbed my hand on the way from the apartment to South Street, so I can't say I was totally surprised when she leaned in to kiss me soon after we arrived at the bar.
I could tell when we first met that Christine was older than me. I was 25, and although I never asked her age, I'd have guessed she was in her early 30s. It was only recently that I found out her real age and learned she was in her late 30s when we hooked up. There's a 14-year gap between us, but she looks good for her age. I don't think I'd heard the word "cougar" yet at that point, but that's probably what I'd call her.
Aggressive is another word I'd use to describe her. At the bar, she confessed to me that her aunt really hadn't been sleeping. She hadn't even gone to her apartment to check, she said. She had remembered me from our five-minute meeting the previous summer, and used the story about her aunt as an excuse to knock on my door. She'd set her sights on me from the beginning.
Christine was pretty intense, and she was pretty outspoken that night, but we didn't talk politics much. Her aunt had told me that Christine ran for Senate a year earlier and had lost, so I knew a bit about her background. But the most political she got that night was when she said she attended lots of events in Washington that attracted congressmen and senators. "It would be nice to have a good-looking young man to attend those with me," she added.
We'd probably knocked back five Heinekens when Christine leaned over and whispered in my ear that she wanted to go back to my place. Before we could go, though, she told me to ask her friend if she'd mind if I drove Christine home later that evening. That was odd. I guess Christine didn't want to come across as a in her friend's eyes for going home with me, so she wanted me to bring it up her friend first.
I did what I was told and asked her friend if she had any objection to me hanging out with Christine a little longer provided I took her home later on in the evening. She didn't, and a few minutes after that, we were all headed back to my apartment. Christine's friend got in her car and went home. My roommate went to his bedroom and went to sleep. And Christine and I got cozy on the couch and popped open another beer.
Things got physical on the couch pretty quickly. It wasn't long before we'd moved from the living room to my bed.
I won't get into the nitty gritty details of what happened between the sheets that evening. But I will say that it wasn't half as exciting as I'd been hoping it would be. Christine was a decent kisser, but as soon as soon as her clothes came off and she was naked in my bed, Christine informed me that she was a virgin.
"You've got to be kidding," I said. She didn't explain at the time that she was a "born-again virgin." She made it seem like she'd never had sex in her life, which seemed pretty improbable for a woman her age. And she made it clear that she was planning on staying a virgin that night. But there were signs that she wasn't very experienced sexually. When her underwear came off, I immediately noticed that the waxing trend had completely passed her by.
Obviously, that was a big turnoff, and I quickly lost interest. I said goodnight, rolled over, and went to sleep. It was almost four o'clock in the morning. I had to get up at 6:30 to go to work.
Christine wasn't in the best of shape when my alarm clock went off three hours later. I was hungover and exhausted and we'd both had about the same amount to drink, so I'm guessing she was feeling even worse. I got up and started to get dressed and told Christine she'd need to get up, too. But she clearly didn't want to budge, and even after I'd reminded her a few times, she was still under the covers. Did she think I was going to leave for work and let her sleep in my bed?
When she finally did get up and dressed and we got in the car, Christine couldn't remember exactly where her friend lived. We circled around for about 20 minutes before we found it, and I dropped her off in the parking lot next to her car, as she asked me to. We said goodbye and exchanged phone numbers and email addresses. But there wasn't a whole lot of back and forth. I didn't even try to give her a kiss goodbye.
I wasn't planning on contacting Christine after our night together. Things hadn't gone so great—especially the part that took place in my bedroom—and I didn't see any reason to try and see her again. But two or three days later, she emailed me to ask me if I wanted to hang out again. I made an excuse. But she didn't take a hint and emailed or called a few more times over the next couple of weeks before I was forced to make it clear to her that I wasn't interested.
Things worked out for the best, though. A few weeks later, Christine started dating my roommate. They went out for over a year, and it was a little awkward the first few times Christine came over to visit him at our apartment and we all had to make conversation in the living room. But that passed pretty quickly. And in case you're wondering, he never had sex with her either, as far as I know.
When I heard several months ago that Christine had decided to run again, I didn't take it very seriously. And I never expected in a million years that she'd end up winning the primary. But she did, and the morning after the election, I sat in disbelief as I watched the news on TV. For a second, I thought I might be hearing things and I went over to my computer and pulled up CNN.com to check if it was true. It was.
God, I hope the same thing doesn't happen next week.
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