Darn it. I’ve had some success with traditional Dutch recipes so far. The pea soup turned out well, and the family loved the Hachee. And back when it was winter, y’know, a few weeks ago, a man knocked on our door around 7:30 a.m. and sold me 20 pounds of apples, so I thought I’d try my hand at a traditional Dutch appeltaart (which is not quite the same thing as an apple pie, so you get the Dutch wikipedia entry for that one).
Bleck. I’ve tried appeltaart before in cafés, so I know how it’s supposed to turn out, but I don’t know where I messed up – it kinda didn’t do what the recipe said it would do. A dough is supposed to hold together; this dough was a bowlful of dampish crumbs. It tastes all right, but it looks like hell, falls apart when you cut it, and the crust is like particle board. Ignatz has decided to call it “Apple Fumble.”
I think I’ll stick with plain old American apple pie from now on.
Song du jour of the day: Bring It On Home To Me, by Sam Cooke.