Now We Bitch – A Beginning of Pie and Cheese

So, to start. Made a beer cheese for sharing with friends, and an apple pie. As promised to my friends, family and other folks who have haraunged me about this project, recipes first, bitching second.

Beer Cheese:
Went with the recipe from The Chunky Chef

Basically goes:
3 tbsp of butter – melt over medium heat
3 tbsp of flour – whisk in until no longer lumpy
1/2 cup lager beer – also whisk until smooth (Plan to replace with a dry sweet cider next time)
1 cup whole milk (half and half or heavy cream may be substituted)
1 tsp grainy dijon mustard (or regular dijon)
1/2 – 1 tsp Worcestershire sauce
1/2 tsp garlic powder
1/2 tsp kosher salt
1/4 tsp black pepper (recommend about 2 – 3 times this much imo)
1/8 tsp cayenne pepper (similar. I like my beer cheese a little punchy)
pinch of dried parsley (optional)
3 cups shredded cheddar cheese (or your favorite cheese) (about 12 oz) (Went with sharp cheddar, added gradually and by eye, not so much by measurement)

Pie! I made an apple pie with Pink Ladies, which are my preferred pie apple, as they are delicate and sweet, and not prone to mushy. Diced v fine.
My current favorite pie crust recipe is from this pot pie recipe. As is, stepped it all up a quarter of a cup in order to make the crust slightly thicker/fit over the apples.

  • 1 cup butter (2 sticks) (cut up into smol chonks, throw into the flour. Use your pastry cutter, or a pair of butter knifes to continue cutting butter into flour until roughly pea-sized or marble sized )
  • 2 cups flour
  • 1 tsp salt
  • 1/4 cup cold water (add gradually, slowly knead until it comes together)

    Vaguely followed this recipe for the filling
    1/2 whole lemon , juiced (Used lemon juice)
    3 whole small apples, peeled, halved, cored and thinly sliced
    1/4 cups all-purpose flour
    1/2 cup light brown sugar
    1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
    1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
    1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
    2 tablespoons crème fraîche or sour cream (did not bother with)
    1 large egg, beaten (for egg wash) (used about 3 tbsp of butter for the wash this time)
    1 tablespoon turbinado sugar, for topping (optional) (generous handful coating)
  • Also added a dash of nutmeg, for reasons

Now…we bitch.

This all kicked off with a very angery rant I had on FB about pie crust. Mostly because it being the colder temperatures, and I being a wee baking nerd, went looking for a little bit of apple pie recipe. Went to my current preferred food amalgamation site and…

Galette.

Nothing but recipes for fucking galette as far as the eye could see.

Now, for those of you paying attention at home, who are not horrible, rage-gremlins that bake in the dead of night, half drunk and madcaply, a galette has charitably been around since about the 12th century. It was traditionally savory (although personally, I am quite fond of a good peach and plum galette) and usually used leftover pastry dough to wrap from the bottom and not close over the top.

This is not a pie. This is also not a “new type of pie” which yes, I grasp, all things that are old are new once more, but still. This is the principle of the thing. So no, motherfucker, I do not want to make a fucking galette, I want to make a motherfucking pie. With a top and a bottom. And if I’m searching pie. I WANT PIE IN THE DAMN RESULTS.

No, making a crumb topping (looking at you my FB friends list) does not make you 2 edgy for words, or unorthodox. That’s pretty Grade A standard at this point.
No, learning to measure by eye and guess is not unusual. You may note, with my friends food-day today, I did a fair bit of “ehhhhh” for the measuring. Up there. In the comments I added to the damn recipes.

Tart, also, not a pie. It’s a tart. The crust is different.

Oh, and, apple pie cookies? Are a thing that have been around for YEARS. They’re called handpies.

One more addendum to my rant: People should derive joy where they can in capitalist dystopian horror wasteland that we live in. I don’t begrudge anyone enjoying what they enjoy. I just have Opinions and they are solely my own fucking neuroses.

So. Bite me.