Or, as I like to call it, SHIT-DAMN-FUCK Ugly-Ass Peach Pie.
I did not have fun making this pie.
I did not take any pictures of the process, because the air was too blue to see the actual pie.
As I was making it, I swore many, many times that I would never make this pie again. That I would never make another pie again. That pie-making and all those who undertake it were stupid, stupid people. I may have cursed Edna Staebler’s ancestors for eternity.
But you know what? If you close your eyes while eating this ugly-ass pie, it’s not half bad.
First you take a 9 inch unbaked pie shell. This was the first of my problems – my crust this week was, in all seriousness, the worst I have ever made and I have no idea why. It was impossible to roll out, it just kept shredding, and when I finally lifted it to put in the pie plate, it crumbled to pieces.
And there was MUCH swearing.
I eventually pieced it back together and resumed the recipe.
Take 3/4 cup sugar, 1/4 cup flour, and 2 tablespoons butter, and cut them into fine crumbs. Sprinkle half the crumbs into the pie shell.
Now place “14 or 15” peach halves in the shell in a “pretty pattern with the cut sides down.”
Try really, really hard not to go completely insane while trying to push 14 to 15 peach halves into the shell. IT CANNOT BE DONE. As much as I squished and pushed, some always popped up onto the top. And there just wasn’t enough detail in the recipe — was I supposed to have a second layer? There did not seem to be enough peach halves for two layers, but one layer seemed to defy the laws of physics.
Plus, when you’re arranging peach halves in a round pie plate, you can’t fill in all the plate. As in, there are all these weird corners and triangles left over with no peach bits in them. And so I was all worried, what if someone got a bite that was just pastry, and they were SCARRED FOR LIFE?
So I toyed with the idea of cutting the peaches into small chunks but in the end I said FUCK IT, and let them pop up as they saw fit.
Then you sprinkle the other half of the crumbs on top of your crappily arranged peach halves, and then “sprinkle” with two tablespoons lemon juice mixed with 1/4 cup peach juice (reserved from the can if you are using canned peaches, which I was, or you can just use water if you are using fresh peaches, in which case, you have taken this pie to a whole new level of insanity and GOD BE WITH YOU).
The juice ran everywhere and everything got all wet and it didn’t seem very sprinkle like but I no longer cared. Into the oven for 40 minutes at 375 with you!
And here is the result.
Is this not a truly horrible, ugly pie? I think it looks like alien baby eggs in a nest waiting to hatch.
Luckily you are supposed to smother it with dream whip (or sweetened whipping cream, if you are not lazy like me) before serving, so it can hide the ugliness. And with all that whipped cream on top, it’s actually pretty good.
The thing about this pie is that the crumbs and peach juice congeal into a pretty solid type filling, taking care of all the gaps and things left by the peach halves, so I really did not have to worry about that. As for the halves themselves, I think I should have ignored the recipe and just put in the 11 or 12 peach halves that actually were going to fit. Or else use my larger 9 1/2 inch pie plate.
This pie is so nice and summery and unique, for a peach pie, that I may actually try it again.
Some day when the blue clouds clear up.