Warning, you are heading into heavy territory, but there is light (in the form of a delicious easy recipe) at the end of the tunnel, errr, blog post.)
My birthday is November 27 and is very close to the Thanksgiving holiday. I have fond childhood memories of gathering with my mom's rather large family for the big dinner and always having a birthday cake among the amazingly crafted desserts. Usually, I was encouraged by one or more relatives to come see them at the adult table. I would scoot back from the kid's table and approach the pristine and intimidating special table. One adult would reach into their billfold and produce a dollar bill. A kid at the adult table was odd so they would all take notice, and soon, I was collecting bills and coins, kisses and hugs, and a careful eye from my mom that telepathically whispered "mind your manners, don't grab, be thankful and say so, look them in the eye, don't go to anyone who doesn't call upon you, don't brag when you go back to the kid table, better yet, give me the money and I will hold it for you." This "tradition" continued well into my teen-age years and even into my very young adulthood.
I grew up and moved away from Florida to Tennessee. I lived with my father and his family for a couple of years. For a while it was just the three of us. She did the cooking (I had not yet learned. I became a "family" joke, the "girl who couldn't cook and when she tried it was not edible". This joke never ended and was repeated at every gathering, but that is another story for another time). We sat and ate, simply, quietly. And that was it. Birthdays were not a big deal in this household so no birthday cake. Why have birthday cake when there is pie?
Once married, my husband and I became stretched between the two families for every holiday. We were forced to split up the day, give time frames, and expected to eat full meals at each one. This became an undesirable holiday. My once beloved Thanks-Birthday-Giving became a chore, a struggle. But I was a co-dependent, a people-pleaser, and although I didn't yet know these titles, I knew that I must tiptoe and do whatever I was instructed to do so as to keep the peace. During this season of my life, I joined a home-based business company called The Pampered Chef (and did so for six years). Mainly, I joined to learn how to cook without so that I could put the jokes and being made fun of behind me and hoping to find a way to lose the title "The Girl Who Couldn't Cook But When She Tried It Was Not Edible". Wonderfully, I learned to cook, and I started to do parties in other people's homes, make them a treat, that they ate, and I got paid!
Interestingly enough, my dishes at my in-laws and at work soon became noticed, and eaten, without anyone getting sick or dying. I actually received requests to bring certain dishes to events. Sadly, my other family only asked my husband and I to bring rolls (packaged of course) and drinks and sometimes paper plates.
Later, John's mom, who had always insisted on cooking the main portions of the dinner herself (the kids and their families were asked to bring sides and drinks) fell ill and was no longer able to do the cooking she loved so much. The torch was passed, rightly so, to my sister in-law. My mother in-law passed away in 2013. In their grief, holiday dinners were no longer a big deal for that side of the family. I became more and more strained in my relationship with my family in Tennessee, growing anxious and weary of hearing the stories told of how bad my cooking was, how messed up I was, how different and weird I was, how I would have become a better person (who could cook) had they raised me. My anxiety would get so bad that I would start dreading the holidays when September rolled around, two months prior to Thanksgiving! And my little family suffered greatly.
In 2012, I entered the worst season of my life in my depression and when the holidays came it compounded it. I needed Xanax to endure. I needed heavy medication to exist and homeschool and work. I needed lots of naps to muster enough energy to attend any function. In September of 2016, God led me to a program called Celebrate Recovery. I asked for boundaries with certain people so that I could learn how to handle my triggers and in time be able to remove those boundaries. Unfortunately, this created anger and frustration from my father and family. I was yelled at, told off, and treated like a spoiled rotten child who had not gotten her way, I was selfish, and obviously my relationship with God wasn't strong enough on my end, I didn't pray enough, etc. So, my boundaries became walls. Solid walls of concrete, hundreds of feet thick. That year, I proclaimed, would be a season of peaceful holiday dinners. It would be filled with warm yummy food, no arguments, no stories of our failures.
(Now that you have read the heavy, how about something light and tasty?)
Now, I was the cook, the baker, and the candlestick maker (which was simply lighting the candles!). And I loved it. Every ounce of it! Even with all that I had learned in the way of cooking I was still nervous about pies. I would try my hand at one and it would look great but be burned on the bottom, or cold in the middle, or too hard, or too mushy. I searched and searched for some sort of an alternative.
I finally found it.
Apple Skillet Pie
Here is what you will need:
- Cast Iron Skillet
- 1 Can of Apple Pie Filling
- 1 Package (2 crusts) of Ready Made Pie Crusts
- 1 Cup Light Brown Sugar
- 1 Stick Butter
- Cinnamon and Sugar to taste
Step 1 Preheat your oven to 400 degrees.
Step 2 Melt 1 stick of butter on low heat in the cast iron skillet on your stove top. Reserve 2 tablespoons for later.
Step 3 Add 1 cup light brown sugar to the melted butter in the skillet and combine.
Step 4 Unroll one of the pie crusts and place it in the skillet on top of the brown sugar butter combination.
Step 5 Pour the apple pie filling on top of the crust in your skillet.
By the way, my hubby likes the apples bite-sized so I poured the apple
pie filling into a measuring cup and sliced through them with a knife
before pouring them over the pie crust. The above picture is me about to
pour the filling and then realizing, just in time, the request from
him!Step 6 Unroll the second pie crust, and if you choose, do some cut outs! I used a set from The Pampered Chef from way back in my consultant days. You can see my spatula that I have had and used from probably 11 years or so ago! Place your cut outs to the side for later.
Step 7 Place the second crust over your apple pie mixture. If you did not make any cut outs, you will need to cut a 1-2 inch slit in the center.
Step 8 Place the optional cut outs on your crust, brush the entire pie crust (and cut outs) with the reserved 2 tablespoons of melted butter.
Step 9 Sprinkle with cinnamon and sugar.
Enjoy the finished product, add some vanilla ice cream and caramel sauce if you feel so inclined.
Yummo.
We had a lovely, drama free dinner with lots of love and laughter. The Apple Pie Skillet was the "icing on the love cake".
Here's to you and yours enjoying the same. You have the right to make the hard decisions that may not make others satisfied, but that are the best for you and your family. Go forth, and create goodness. It doesn't have to look like a Norman Rockwell painting. It only needs to look how you want it to feel. Warm, gooey, yummy, quiet or loud with laughter and perfectly imperfect.
{Purse}onally Yours,
Tina
