Applesauce Lattice Pie

The book reading at the Manhattan bookstore was Wednesday. I stood at a podium in front of eighty people — strangers, mostly, with some family (David, Jennifer, Rebecca, Thomas) and some former students and Sandra from the support group and Angela from Cedarhurst — and I read from the brisket chapter. The chapter about making brisket at Irving's shiva and feeding sixty people and Sylvia saying, "It's almost as good as mine." I read it aloud and the room was quiet and then the room was crying and then I was crying and then I said, "I'm sorry. The brisket does this to me." And the room laughed, through the crying, and the laughing-through-crying was the most Jewish response possible to a chapter about brisket and death and love, because Jewish laughter is always through tears, and Jewish tears are always through laughter, and the two are not separate but braided, like challah, like the chain, like the life.

A woman in the front row came up afterward and said, "I'm calling my mother. Right now. I'm calling her and I'm going to ask her for the brisket recipe." I said, "Do it. Call her now. Don't wait." She pulled out her phone and called her mother in the bookstore, standing next to me, and I heard her say, "Mom? It's me. I need your brisket recipe. Yes, right now. I just read a book and I need the recipe." I listened to this woman call her mother for a brisket recipe in a Manhattan bookstore at nine o'clock on a Wednesday night and I thought: this is the chain. This is what the chain sounds like. This is the book doing what the book is supposed to do: making people cook. Making people call. Making the chain extend.

I don’t have the brisket recipe in this post — that one belongs to the book, and to Irving, and to Sylvia who said it was almost as good as hers. But that woman in the front row, the one who called her mother right there in the bookstore, reminded me that any recipe can be the recipe: the one that makes you pick up the phone, the one that carries the chain forward. This applesauce lattice pie is the one I reach for when I want to extend that same feeling — something warm, something layered, something that looks like effort because it is, and tastes like someone who loved you made it. Call someone while it bakes. That’s the whole point.

Prep Time: 30 minutes | Cook Time: 55 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 25 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting
1 tablespoon granulated sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup (2 sticks) cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
6–8 tablespoons ice water
3 cups unsweetened applesauce (homemade or store-bought)
1/3 cup packed light brown sugar
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
1 tablespoon cornstarch
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 egg, beaten (for egg wash)
1 tablespoon coarse sugar, for sprinkling

Instructions

Make the crust. Whisk together flour, sugar, and salt in a large bowl. Add cold butter and work it in with your fingertips or a pastry cutter until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs with some pea-sized pieces remaining. Add ice water one tablespoon at a time, mixing gently until the dough just comes together. Divide into two discs, wrap in plastic, and refrigerate for at least 1 hour.
Make the filling. In a medium saucepan over medium heat, combine applesauce, brown sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, cornstarch, vanilla, and lemon juice. Stir and cook for 8–10 minutes until slightly thickened. Remove from heat and let cool to room temperature.
Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 375°F. On a lightly floured surface, roll out one dough disc to a 12-inch circle and fit it into a 9-inch pie pan, leaving an inch of overhang. Refrigerate while you roll the second disc.
Cut the lattice. Roll the second dough disc to a 12-inch circle and cut it into 3/4-inch strips using a sharp knife or pastry wheel. You will need about 10 strips for a full lattice.
Fill the pie. Pour the cooled applesauce filling into the chilled crust and spread evenly.
Weave the lattice. Lay half the strips parallel across the filling, spacing evenly. Fold back every other strip and lay one perpendicular strip across the center. Unfold the strips, then fold back the alternating strips. Repeat with remaining perpendicular strips to complete the weave. Trim excess dough, fold the overhang up over the lattice edges, and crimp to seal.
Egg wash and bake. Brush the lattice and crimped edges with the beaten egg and sprinkle with coarse sugar. Place the pie on a rimmed baking sheet and bake for 50–55 minutes, until the crust is deep golden and the filling is bubbling through the lattice. If the edges brown too quickly, tent loosely with foil after 30 minutes.
Cool before slicing. Let the pie cool on a wire rack for at least 2 hours before slicing. The filling will set as it cools.

Nutrition (per serving)

Applesauce Lattice Pie — The Recipe You Call Your Mother For