I’ve had several requests for my apple and plum pie recipe, so here it is (perhaps it should really be Apple Plum Pear Pie, but that sounds a bit of a mouthful).

Oh – and the Catalan quote …?

Let’s look down the coast, not up; it doesn’t rain fish.

Apple Plum Pie (an unseasonal pie for a rainy day in summer)

For the pastry
7 oz oz plain flour
3 oz self-raising flour
6 oz butter
water

For the filling
2 Bramley apples
6 ripe plums
3 small pears
1 tbsp lemon juice
2 oz light muscovado sugar
2 oz caster sugar
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp salt
1 oz butter
1 tbsp cornflour

Rub the butter into the flour and stir in just enough water to form a dough. Divide into two pieces, one for the bottom crust and one for the top crust of the pie. Wrap each piece in cling film and leave to rest in the fridge.

Peel and dice the apples and pears. Dice the plums. Toss all together in a large bowl with the lemon juice, sugars and cinnamon. Leave to macerate for at room temperature for at least an hour.

Strain the juices from the fruit and sugar mix into a small saucepan. Reserve the fruit (obviously – or it would just be a jam pie!).

Add the butter to the juices and bring them to the boil. Simmer gently until the juices are syrupy and reduced to about 1/3 cup.

Sprinkle the cornflour over the reserved fruit and toss to combine thoroughly.

Pour the syrupy jam over the fruit and toss again to mix everything together evenly.

Roll out the pastry for the bottom crust and use it to line a 9″ pie dish.

Scrape the fruit mixture into the pie. Roll out the pastry for the top crust and use it to cover the fruit. Seal and crimp the edges. Make four or five slashes in the top, or prod it several times with a fork.

Cover the pie loosely with clingfilm and leave it to rest in the fridge for an hour or so.

Preheat the oven to 190 degrees C.

Bake the pie for 45 to 55 minutes until the pastry is golden and the juices are bubbly.

Allow to cool slightly before eating …

O is quite happy to describe himself as a bit of a Luddite, so I hope I’m not betraying any confidences when I tell you so. It relates to the extent to which he is comfortable (or not) to embrace new technologies. Perhaps the best illustration of this is his endearing persistence in starting all emails to me with a formal, ‘Dear Kate …’ in avoidance of anything more casual. I even received text messages from him in this way until either our need to keep in more regular contact strained his texting thumb or he relaxed his perception of correct wife-husband correspondence.

Anyway – why am I telling you this? Only because I know that the title of this post will either have confused the hell out of him or he’ll be reaching for the psychiatrist’s phone number thinking he’s got a psychotic wife on the loose again. Relax – it’s only a doffing reference to txtspk or emoticons or whatever (you see, I really don’t know any more than O does) because a) we really do love gooseberry pie, and b) I really did make my little pie in a heart-shaped ramekin. And really, how many reallies can you fit into one paragraph without sounding insincere anyway?

So, having completely tied myself up in knots (or should that be ‘tied up myself in knots’?). Ug. Who cares? The pie was good.

Which pie?

Didn’t I tell you?

Oh, sorry. I got a bit side-tracked.

Here’s the story.

O picked our first crop of gooseberries.

I made gooseberry pie.

Which would have been a very short post.

Gooseberry Pie (makes one very small ramekin-sized pie for a first crop of gooseberries)

Your favourite shortcrust pastry
+
8 oz gooseberries, topped and tailed
4 oz caster sugar
juice and zest of 1 small lemon
2 tsp cornflour
1 oz butter

Preheat the oven to 180 degrees C.

Put the gooseberries, sugar, lemon juice and zest in a saucepan. Cook over low to moderate heat until the gooseberries are looking very relaxed and chilled out with life.

Strain the mixture then put the strained gooseberries into a bowl and mix with the cornflour until fully incorporated.

Return the sugary juice to the pan, add the butter and simmer until thickened to a jam-like consistency.

Line your ramekin with pastry.

Mix the gooseberries with enough jam to make a not-too-soggy filling, and scrape into the pastry-lined ramekin. (I had a little extra jam, so made gooseberry snails with the leftover scraps of pastry).

Top the pie with a layer of pastry and seal.

Bake in the oven for about 20 minutes until the pastry is golden and flaky.

This recipe (for what it’s worth) is dedicated to Rose, to whom I sent a heart-shaped ramekin not so very long ago.
xx