By August 2031. The first cohort of the traditional foods curriculum at the vocational center was still a month away and I spent August preparing. Twelve students, two days a week, twelve weeks. I'd built the structure with the program director through the spring but the actual content—the sequences, the hands-on elements, the field work on the land—needed to be mapped in detail.
Lily helped by phone. She'd been doing curriculum development for two years at OU and knew what structured learning required that informal teaching didn't. She said: you need clear outcomes for each session, not just activities. I said: what's the difference? She said: an activity is making bean bread. An outcome is understanding why the process takes the time it takes and why that time matters culturally. I said: those are the same thing to me. She said: you need to make it the same thing to twelve people who haven't spent forty years learning it. I said fair enough.
Kai stayed through August helping me develop the field component—the food forest walks, the wild plant identification sessions, the harvest practices. He'd become a genuine educator over the Vermont years and his input was practical in ways that balanced my intuitive approach. We had good arguments about sequencing and both of us made the curriculum better for it.
Made a test dinner at the house for five people I planned to invite as guest speakers: the Stilwell bean woman, an elder from the language program, Madison, Lily, and the program director. Cooked the full curriculum's traditional dishes in one evening as a way of mapping the prep time and complexity. Everything worked. I wrote down what worked and what I'd adjust. That's the curriculum process: you try it, you write down what happens, you improve it.
That test dinner in August was never just about feeding five people—it was a dress rehearsal for twelve weeks of teaching, and every dish had to earn its place. When it came time for dessert, I wanted something that rewarded patience the way the whole evening was meant to: a recipe with distinct layers, a process that couldn’t be rushed, and a result that made the work feel worthwhile. The Macaroon Apple Pie was exactly that—sweet, textured, and the kind of thing that gets written down in the “keep this” column without any debate.
Macaroon Apple Pie
Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 50 min | Total Time: 1 hr 10 min | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 1 unbaked 9-inch pie shell
- 3 medium apples, peeled, cored, and thinly sliced
- 2 tablespoons sugar
- 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
- 1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
- 2 large eggs
- 3/4 cup sugar (for macaroon layer)
- 1/4 cup butter, melted
- 1/2 teaspoon almond extract
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
- 1 1/2 cups sweetened flaked coconut
- 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
Instructions
- Preheat oven. Heat oven to 375°F. Place the unbaked pie shell in a 9-inch pie plate and set aside.
- Prepare apple layer. In a large bowl, toss the sliced apples with 2 tablespoons sugar, cinnamon, and nutmeg until evenly coated. Arrange the apples in an even layer in the bottom of the pie shell.
- Make macaroon topping. In a medium bowl, whisk together the eggs and 3/4 cup sugar until smooth. Stir in the melted butter, almond extract, and salt. Add the coconut and flour and mix until fully combined.
- Assemble. Spoon the macaroon mixture evenly over the apple layer, spreading gently to cover.
- Bake. Bake for 45–50 minutes, until the macaroon topping is golden brown and set in the center. If the edges of the crust brown too quickly, cover them loosely with foil after the first 20 minutes.
- Cool and serve. Allow the pie to cool on a wire rack for at least 20 minutes before slicing. Serve warm or at room temperature.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 340 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 16g | Carbs: 48g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 210mg