Renee’s Rustic Apple Pie

As a kid, I never quite understood American apple pie. Don't get me wrong, I did, do, and will eat American apple pie. Please do not think that I am too elitist for any kind of pie. American apple pie is a big gooey, and to me, strange delicious mess. My formative experiences with apple pie were shaped by a pie you can eat with your fingers. My mom's french apple pie. To me, American apple pie always seemed like a bowl made out of crust, with compote in it, and not a cohesive hole. My mom's apple pie is perfect for an outdoor picnic or summer barbecue, precisely because it isn't a gooey mess. Everyone can grab a slice and eat it without even using a plate.

Mãe herself never referred to her apple pie as rustic. It was simply torta de maçã, which translates literally to "apple pie." The best way to help people understand the results they will get, is to describe it as rustic. The recipe itself is her own adaptation of a french plum tarte. She took an old recipe from her mom's french cookbook for the crust and the creme, but making it with plum apparently was always a watery disaster, so one day she started making it with super thinly sliced apple, and it worked out well. I cannot tell you how many times I have personally consumed this pie. As a kid, I always wanted to scrape the custard out of the saucepan and lick the wooden spoon. This one simple little rustic pie just has so many good memories for me, and I hope it will for you too.

At its core, the rustic apple pie has two main components: The custard, and the crust. The custard itself is the simplest thing ever. It's just an egg custard: Egg yolks, milk, sugar, and a little flour for thickening.