Picture in your mind's eye a perfect apple pie. Observe its swollen dome of blistered pastry hugging hunks of apple beneath the surface. Watch its lightly thickened juices, sweetened and spiced, drip from the slit where the pie was sliced. Savor its honey and its tang of tart fruit. Apple pie is perfect food.
Apple pie can be as humble as stewed fruit packed in pastry, or ostentatious, with gems of custard and nuts just visible between intricately woven ribbons of crust. Apple pie is as refined as a peel of sweet pastry lacquered with glaze and the slimmest slivers of apple imaginable. It is a tiny tartlet of apple parings radiating from the center like the petals of a rose. It is a child's fantasy of sugar-sodden fruit piled high under sweet cinnamon crumbs. It is a heartwarming wedge served before a fireplace with great slices of aged Cheddar.