Nathan’s Apple Pie
You can use store-bought crust or you can make your own.
To make a double pie crust:
2 2/3 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon salt
½ cup butter
½ cup shortening
6 tablespoons ice-cold water
Apple Pie Filling:
4-8 Granny Smith apples (depends on size)
4 tablespoons cut-up butter
½ cup granulated sugar
2 tablespoons ground cinnamon (Nathan likes lots of cinnamon. This can easily be cut down to taste.)
1 tablespoon all-purpose flour (This helps the sauce in the pie thicken.)
To make crust:
Cut together the flour, salt, butter, and shortening with a pastry fork until blended. Add water one Tbsp at a time and mix with fork until it firms into a ball. Separate the ball into two smaller balls. Roll each out onto a heavily floured surface, flipping over frequently. Place one crust in the bottom of a pie pan and reserve the other crust for topping the pie once it is full.
To make filling:
Peel and slice all the apples. Add all slices into a bowl. Mix the apples with the sugar, cinnamon, and flour until well coated. Dump apples into pie crust. Place the 4 tablespoons of cut-up butter around on top of the apples.
Cover the pie with the remaining crust. Crimp the edges together. With a sharp knife, cut a few slits in the top crust (to allow steam to escape while baking), and then you can brush the top of the pie with an egg wash (egg wash = a beaten raw egg). This will give the crust its golden-brown appearance. Also, sprinkle granulated sugar over the top of the crust—which will give the pie a nice flavor and sweetness.
Bake the pie in an oven preheated to 400 degrees for 40-50 minutes, depending on oven.
Let cool and enjoy!
Note: Nathan suggests serving your warm apple pie with a generous helping of French vanilla ice cream.
Cambria recommends enjoying with ice cream AND coffee.
TEXT by Cambria Hebert
**This is copyrighted material by author Cambria Hebert**
As I ran, something darted out from the side. I jerked, the sudden movement startling me. My stride faltered and I turned toward whatever it was, but I didn’t see it.
It plowed into me, knocking me over, my hip taking the brunt of my fall. I grunted in pain and scrambled to get up.
But someone pinned me down.
I shoved at the man, and he glanced down, his eyes meeting mine. There was something cold in his blue-eyed stare. Something empty and flat.
Panic bloomed in my chest, spiking through my body as my heart rate went wild and alarm bells started sounding in my head.
Yes, I read the stories. Yes, I saw it on the news.
Woman is kidnapped. Search for missing woman continues. Woman is found beaten and dead.
But that stuff didn’t happen to me. That stuff happened to other people. Unfortunate women… women that weren’t me.
This isn’t happening to me.
A surge of adrenaline had me bringing up my knee and catching the man in his balls. He made a high-pitched sound and fell to the side. I scrambled up and took off, racing down the path, toward the road that intersected it. If I could make it there, I could flag down a car. I could find someone to help me.
The earbuds had fallen out of my ears and hung around my neck, banging into my skin and reminding me that I had my phone. My phone! As I ran, my hand fumbled, trying to yank it out of the band around my arm. Finally, I managed to grasp it and I held it up in front of me, calling up the keypad and dialing.
He tackled me from behind and I fell face forward, the phone tumbling out of my hands, just ahead, just out of reach. I cried out and stretched my hand toward my lifeline, desperate to finish the call.
“You’re going to pay for that, bitch,” the gruff voice said.
I’d never known such fear in all my life. I could barely think straight. Straight-laced dread and panic took over my body, making my limbs feel heavy and numb.
Don’t give in, the voice inside me screamed.
I bucked like a pony and reached forward, my hand closing over my phone. Yes! My joy was extremely short-lived when the man, who was still straddling my back, snatched it out of my hand and tossed it into the nearby creek.
“No,” I cried, watching it swept away beneath the surface.
“No one’s going to help you,” the voice above intoned.