Good afternoon, readers! I practically pissed myself with excitement when I saw I actually gained a couple of followers in the last week, so welcome to my blog! (Don’t have expectations that are too high…)
As mentioned last week, my office other-half keeps looking at me like she’s going to stab me with her biro every time I bring in bakes that she can’t eat, because she might shit herself if she does. The chick is the coolest most chill motherfucker I have the pleasure to know, and she is also becoming my life coach/personal trainer as she drags me kicking and screaming to boxing classes and advises me when needed…take a bow, Emma! *raging fucking applause*
So, to appease this blonde bitch, I made 2 gluten free apple pies. I was hoping to make it apple & blackberry, but Sainsbury’s was fresh out so fuck that. Plain apple it was. The professional recipe came from Nigella, the most sexually radiant cook out there. The other recipe came from a website called Doves Farm, and I only used it as it was one of the only recipes that didn’t call for pre-made pie bases that I knew Sainsbury’s wouldn’t stock because my local store really is the definition of the word ‘shite’.
I (again) forgot to take a picture of all the ingredients I use but quite frankly it was all pretty basic: gluten-free flour, apples, sugar, butter. After all, this is my fucking blog so I can forget to take pictures all I want and if you don’t like it you can shove a whisk up your arse.
Immediately I realised there may have been a mistake in this recipe as it only called for 10g of gluten-free flour. I mixed it together with the butter anyway, just to see how it looked, and it was not good at all. So I used some initiative and made it 100g instead. I know the point of this blog is to follow recipes exactly, but I need to have something to work from.
After beating the dry mix together, I added the water and formed into a ‘slightly’ sticky dough. This bitch was stickier than the wax residue you’re left with on your legs after a failed Veet session.
I covered it nonetheless and left it to sit. Upon returning, there was fuck all difference to it but quite frankly I’m a busy bitch so I don’t have time to continue waiting.
I then retrieved the lump and separated it into thirds. I rolled out two of the balls, which was a fucking nightmare. I only have a wooden rolling pin and board at my disposal when I know I really need some more silicon cutlery, but even with clingfilm the process wasn’t going well. I persevered and ended up with two flat pancakes, reminiscent of what a hedgehog looks like 3mins after it wanders onto a motorway.
I then had to transfer one of the…dough…shapes….to the pie tin (a well motherfucking greased pie tin). I have seen people time and time again showing off and rolling the pastry straight off of the pin into the dish, but I knew that this wasn’t going to happen for me, so I flipped it onto the tin and peeled the film off of the dough. It actually looked like I had succeeded…until I pressed the fucker into the tin and it all disintegrated. Fucking gluten-free is bollocks.
After patching it up a best I could, I left it to the side to try and bash together the filling. Peeling the apples was probably the most taxing part of this step, because I haven’t got the most amazing peeler either. On a totally irrelevant note, if anyone has any spare money or utensils laying around, send them the fuck over because I need some decent equipment.
After I sacrificed some skin and a nail peeling and chopping the apples (don’t worry, I retrieved the nail…probably), I put the slices into a bigger bowl and mixed them with the sugar and clove. No heating, no cinnamon, no anything. What a basic fucking bitch of a mix. I dumped it into the tin anyway, and started another grueling 10 minutes of rolling more dough out for the pie lid. This was about as successful as Theresa May was this year. I mean, I did manage what I intended to do, but did I really win? I poked a few holes in the top to let the steam escape, and threw it into the incinerator. Like every week, I turned the heat down to accommodate for the fiery nature of the cunt, and checked on the bake 5 mins before the timer went off.
I went and relaxed in the lounge in the mean time. I sat down, opened a bottle of
vodka rosé, and shut my eyes…
…and was abruptly awakened by Lee screaming at the fucking F1. Genuinely, what is so bloody important to men about the F1? The only part I feel passionate about is at the end when they’re spraying the champagne all over the place…what a shitting waste.
When I returned to the kitchen and opened the oven, for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t faced with a cloud of smoke. And the pie actually looked…normal? Golden? Fucking amazing. I whacked it to the side and started on Nigella’s recipe.
If you read my Chocolate Fudge Cake post, you will know that despite how attracted to Nigella I am, her recipe fell slightly short of our expectations. But, like with last weeks Profiteroles where I gave Delia Smith another chance, I thought Nigella deserved to be revisited. This totally didn’t have anything to do with the fact she was the only professional chef that appeared when I googled ‘gluten free apple pie recipe’.
Like with Doves Farm, I had to make the dough first. I had to cut the butter into chunks and pop them into the freezer for 15mins, then blend it into the flour. Nigella recommended a food processor but guess what…I don’t have a food processor either and our blender just can’t cope with this sort of thing, so I had to use my whisks. In any case, All was going well until I had to add fucking sour cream and vinegar to the mix. I don’t know what her fucking obsession is with sour cream but she seems to add it to everything. This mix looked gloopier than the muffin top on a fat man. I separated the mix into two balls and let them rest in the fridge for 40 mins, and she claims you can leave them there for two bloody days. Personally, I don’t relish the thought of stale food so I took them out at 40 mins like any other sane motherfucker would do.
Whilst the dough was chilling (lol) in the fridge, I cracked on with the filling. I yet again said goodbye to a few fingertips and peeled the apples whilst some butter was melting in a pan. Once I threw the slices in, I added the sugar and cinnamon and stirred it together for a few minutes. It was at this point I would have added the blackberries, but I substituted them with some more apple. After I was done stirring the apple-y goodness (and kitchen smelt like a 16 year old who had drunk too much apple sourz had vomited in the sink), I moved the pan to the side and got on with the rolling of the dough. Sounds like the Running of the Bulls, doesn’t it? Both processes are equally as fucking painful to be honest.
I tried to ‘ease’ the dough into the tin but I think we all know how that turned out, so after repairing the base I poured the apple mix in and rolled the other disc of dough on top. I had quite a bit of spare dough so I cut out some circles and placed them on top for some decoration (I know, I’m a classy bitch). After brushing on the egg white, I bent down to put my masterpiece into the oven, and managed to fucking drop the cunt on the way down. I acquired quite a nice burn up the side of my hand catching the tin against the oven shelf, but the pain was worth it as I only lost half of the top which I patched up as best I could.
I left the now deformed mutant pie in the incinerator for 25mins, and upon checking I knew that it didn’t need the extra 5 minutes in there. I took it out to assess just how ugly this fucker was. And it certainly wasn’t the pie equivalent of Emma Stone, in fact it was more akin to Sloth from classic movie The Goonies. Some apple filling had obviously poked out of where I had lost some dough and had burned, but it wasn’t a large amount so I could live with just eating around it.
I mean, if you look closely, you can just about see the difference between the two pies. The more I looked at Nigella’s the more I realised that the pastry was more similar to than what you would find on a pork pie than an apple pie; whereas the Doves Farm pastry looked much more like it should. In comparison, it looks a little under-baked when placed next to Nigella’s monstrosity, but I can assure you there was no soggy bottom and it was lovely and crisp. I am actually quite disappointed that neither pie looked amazing despite how hard I tried with rolling the pastry lid, but perhaps when I give it another go (next time NOT gluten fucking free) it might all work a bit better.
This weeks taste tester is Lee, again. If anyone else wants to volunteer for this role then drop me an email, for the love of God.
I think this must be the first time he’s got it wrong! pahahahah he ain’t as great as he thinks he is. He thought that Nigella’s pie didn’t have much flavour to it at all, even with the added spices. The pastry was nice and crisp, but overall it wasn’t amazing. On the other hand, he fucking loved the Doves Farm pie; and I must say I agreed with him. It truly was delicious. I took a slice in for Emma and I think I definitely remember her saying ‘oh my god Ellie I fucking love you, you have shown me the light, I have never had, nor will I ever have again, a pie this fucking amazing.’
Well, maybe she just said it was good, but whatever.
- Difficulty: 5/10, the only real struggles was rolling the pastry
- Presentation: 3/10, however I am aware that this is mainly down to me being a terrible pastry chef
- Taste: 9/10, wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between that and a shop bought pie (if you had your eyes closed)
- Difficulty: 6/10, again the pastry was a nightmare
- Presentation: 10/10 before dropping it, 0/10 after. I am quietly confident it would have looked a lot better had I not been a dick and losing grip of it
- Taste: 5/10: just average. So average.
The Final Word
No wonder Nigella’s recipes are falling to shit, that amount of cocaine can’t be good for a person.