I envy those living in apple growing country. To be able to walk among the rows of trees in an orchard, their boughs laden with ripe fruit, sounds utterly perfect and magical. I have to make do with what I find at the grocery store since locally our climate isn’t the greatest for apples. And this time of year, the selection is full of heirlooms and lesser known varieties with fanciful names and sometimes unusual appearances. Step aside gala, I want ginger golds, pink pearls, and northern spies.
If you’ve never had the pleasure of meeting a pink pearl apple, I would highly recommend finding one immediately. Their skin is a rather unassuming shade of pale yellow with a pinkish tint. That skin gives way to a mottled rosy flesh that is utterly beautiful. It’s so striking in color that it becomes hard to believe it’s real. And even better than the color is the taste. It’s the perfect balance of sweet and tart with floral undertones. If it’s not obvious already, I’ve fallen a little in love with this apple variety.
I decided to use my small hoard of these beauties this past weekend to make an apple pie situation. What you see in the recipe below is the result of what happened organically in the kitchen as I set my hands to work. No preconceptions and no real plans other than something akin to a pie. So here you have it, mini rose apple pies.
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As soon as October rolled around I had an intense craving for apple pie. I could almost taste it in my mouth if I thought about it hard enough, eyes closed and tummy growling. Sweet tart apples, laced with spices and enveloped by a hearty crust. Simple yet complex at the same time. Apple pie conjures childhood memories of time spent with my grandmother, or Maw Maw as we liked to call her. We would sit around her lace-lined table in the dining room, eagerly awaiting a slice of her Dutch apple pie. Once in front of me I tried to eat as slowly as humanly possible, savoring every last morsel until my plate was licked clean.
