I couldn’t believe it had finally happened, but there they were: two tiny green Granny Smith apples, clinging to one another on the tip of a branch, like infant twins alarmed to find themselves blinking in the daylight. The little tree had been the wimpy newcomer to the backyard for years—a skinny little shrimp of a tree surrounded on all sides by its taller, thicker, fruit-bearing elders, all planted a generation earlier by the house’s previous owners.

Cartoon by Carly Gelfond

The story of the tree’s origins was fairly unexciting. Its planting had not been part of a coherent plan to revive the aging orchard we’d inherited when my parents bought the old farmhouse in New Jersey years prior. No, the little sapling had been a solitary purchase, an only child—like me—a Father’s Day present I’d hastily thought up after the sweaters and mugs and button-downs had all been done and done and done. We had planted it and given it a little mesh fence to keep the animals out. Then we let it alone, figuring it would need a few years to mature.

Each fall, my dad and I would haul out duct tape, rakes and buckets, and construct what could reasonably pass for a decent—if somewhat lethal—homemade apple-picker. The produce from the large dark-leaved Red- and Golden-Delicious trees (never sprayed with pesticides, one of those rare happy instances where frugality and environmentalism coincide) was always bug-eaten and scarred, but the flavor was strong and tart.
And yet one stubborn little tree seemed unable to bear fruit. Year after year, it remained small and fragile, its leaves nibbled by deer. I could fit my hand around the circumference of its trunk. No apples appeared.

Until now. Who knows what slight change in temperature, what tick up or down in the acidity of the soil or what absence or presence floating in the air had jumpstarted the tree’s inner system? Whatever the reason, I now found myself staring out the window at two tiny green Granny Smith apples, nearly ripe for picking. The little sapling, scrawny, inelegant, leaf-eaten, and homely, had finally taken root.
I knew exactly what I would do with them.

Apple Pandowdy
Adapted from The New Best Recipe, from the Editors of Cook’s Illustrated

Pandowdy is true fall comfort food, a sort of deep-dish pie made with sweetened apples and covered with a thick piece of pastry, then baked. Before being served, the pastry is scored into little squares and then squashed—there is really no other word for it—down into the fruit so that it absorbs the fruit juices beneath. There is an art to squashing: you don’t want to completely submerge the crust in the fruit, or it will become soggy. And even I—the kid who would walk away from a bowl of Cheerios for fifteen minutes to let them soak into pale milk-logged versions of their former selves – know that there is a time and place for sogginess.
I’ll admit it—it was the name of this pie that initially drew me in, but it was the crisp, flaky, sweet-tart dish that emerged fragrantly bubbling from my oven that sold me in the end. Culinarily speaking, I’ve come a long way since my Cheerio days.

Ingredients—Crust:
1 cup (5 ounces) unbleached all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting the work surface
½ teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons granulated sugar
2 tablespoons vegetable shortening, chilled
6 tablespoons (¾ stick) cold unsalted butter, cut into ¼ inch pieces
3 – 4 tablespoons ice water
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 tablespoon milk

Ingredients—Filling:
2 large Granny Smith apples (about 1 pound), peeled, cored, and cut into ¼ inch slices
2 large McIntosh apples (about 1 pound), peeled, cored, and cut into ¼ inch slices
⅓ cup (2 ⅓ ounces) packed light brown sugar
1 teaspoon grated zest from 1 lemon
½ teaspoon vanilla extract

1. For the crust: Place the flour, salt, and 1 tablespoon of the granulated sugar in a food processor and pulse until combined. Add the shortening and process about ten seconds, or until the mixture has the texture of coarse sand. (It’s fall! A wonderful season in its own right, but it’s a little sad that this may be the closest to the beach you’ll get for the next several months.) Scatter the butter pieces over the flour mixture. Cut the butter into the flour until the mixture is pale yellow and resembles coarse crumbs, with butter bits no larger than small peas, about ten 1-second pulses. Turn the mixture into a medium bowl.

2. Sprinkle 3 tablespoons of the ice water over the mixture. With the blade of a rubber spatula, use a folding motion to mix. Press down on the dough with the broad side of the spatula until the dough sticks together, adding up to 1 tablespoon more ice water if the dough will not come together. (Don’t worry if there are still a few unblended pieces of butter at this point. Like most things in life, it will all come together in the end.) Place the dough on a sheet of plastic wrap and press into either a square or a circle, depending on whether you are using a square or a round pan. Wrap the dough in the plastic and refrigerate at least 1 hour or up to 2 days before rolling out.

3. For the filling: Adjust an oven rack to the middle position and heat the oven to 425 degrees. Toss the apple slices, brown sugar, lemon zest and vanilla together in a large bowl until the apples are evenly coated with the sugar. (Eat a couple. Baking is half about tasting the filling, licking the spoon…) Place the apples in an 8-inch square or 9-inch round glass baking pan.

4. To assemble and bake the Pandowdy: You’re almost there! Mix together the remaining 1 tablespoon granulated sugar and the cinnamon in a small bowl and set aside. If the dough has been refrigerated longer than one hour, let it stand at room temperature until malleable. (Probably not enough time to put away the laundry, but the perfect amount of time to watch Mad Men.) Roll the dough on a lightly floured work surface to a 10-inch square or circle. Trim the dough to the exact size of the baking dish (or if you’re like me and have nibbled on a good portion of the dough throughout, try to stretch the dough so that you have enough to cover the entire dish). Place the dough on top of the apples. Brush the dough with the milk and sprinkle with the cinnamon-sugar mixture. Cut four 1-inch vents in the dough. Bake until golden brown, 35 to 40 minutes.

5. Score the pastry with a knife into little squares as soon as it emerges from the oven. Use the edge of a spatula to squash the edges of the crust squares down into the fruit without completely submerging them. Because the crust will soften quickly, serve the pandowdy warm. Serves 4 to 6.