Morning in the Kitchen
Pre-read & Edited by
Illustrious Q, El Oso
====================
Through the kitchen window of the Sweet Apple Acres farmhouse, the sun and onlooking birds could glimpse a rare bounty. The counters near the window were stacked high with apple-tastic treats. Apple tarts, so light and flaky you’d mistake them for clouds, sat next to bowls of applesauce that glistened like the pots of gold fabled to be found at the end of rainbows. Caramel apples, wearing their sugary shells like fine jewelry, stood in the shadow of towering apple-cinnamon cakes.
Yet, all that paled in comparison to the pies. A dozen pies were laid out on a separate counter, held aloft by cooling racks. Their sweet smell filled the kitchen, and their perfectly browned crusts were like the exterior of a treasure chest holding the sweet valuables within. It was a feast, and yet, Applejack continued to work. She was mixing another batch of apple filling as the family's apple-themed cooking timer sat next to the stove, counting down a few final minutes.
“Just the two zap apple pies in the oven and then these two here, and I’ll have everything done,” Applejack said as she was adding the final ingredients to the bowl.
“Now, Applejack, what did I tell ya. These ain’t no zap apple pies. Do ya see zap apples on them trees? Did ya forget the jar of jam you added for the filling? These are zap apple jam pies. They’re darn good, but call them by their right name.”
“Yes, Granny,” Applejack replied with little thought, chuckling as she stirred the bowl. Soon enough, the filling was done, and it was time to get the dough. She went to the refrigerator, drawing out the perfectly-chilled pie crust dough, removing it from its bowl, and setting it on the flour-dusted counter. She then reached for the rolling pin.
“Now, you better not be rolling out that big lump of dough. Flatten it with your hoof first.”
Applejack couldn't help but chuckle again as she put down the rolling pin she had only just grasped. “Yes, Granny." She rinsed her forehooves in the sink before beginning work on the dough. With firm presses, she flattened it out bit by bit. She paused only a moment, to cough and sniffle a little into her shoulder.
“AJ, are you getting sick? I won’t have you baking pies when you’re sick.”
Applejack shook her head. “No, Granny. Just… just a little something in my throat.”
When the dough was mostly flat, Applejack reached for the rolling pin but also a small bowl of flour that had been set out on the counter. She gently cupped some of the flour in her hoof and shook her leg over the dough. With each little shake, she brought a gentle snowfall of flour down onto the crust.
“Atta girl, Applejack. That pie crust will be a whole lot easier to flatten out with a little flour. Now, don’t forget to put some flour on that rolling pin too, and did y'all have flour on the counter before you put that pie crust down?”
“I did, Granny,” Applejack said, her hoof already applying a layer of the finely ground flour onto the rolling pin before beginning the process of rolling out the crusts. She rolled and rolled, the gentle, rhythmic sound of the rolling pin's strokes like the ticking of a metronome to the dance that was known as baking. Back and forth, back and forth, until all the dough was spread thinly on the counter.
When things looked about right, Applejack gently set the rolling pin to one side and then went over to the sink. From inside, she fished a bit coin out of a small bowl of soapy water. She rinsed off any lingering soap using water from the faucet, then carried the coin to the very edge of the rolled out dough. She gently pressed it in, and then lowered her head to look at it carefully.
“That’s it, Applejack. Good pie crust is just thick enough that you can’t see the tip of Celestia’s horn on the coin. Trust our princess to make coins that are darn perfect for baking.”
Applejack chuckled, removing the coin from the dough. She looked down at it, just holding it in her hoof a moment before clutching it tightly to her chest. She took a single breath, then shook her shoulders and gently flipped the coin back over to the sink. The bit landed with a small splash into the bowl of soapy water from whence it came. “Of course, Granny.”
The kitchen timer rang, and Applejack quickly turned her head over to the oven. With practiced efficiency, she bit down on the oven mitt that hung from the stove’s handle. She then used that heat-protected grip to open the oven and carefully remove a cookie sheet. On the cookie sheet were the first two of the intended four zap apple jam pies. She quickly transferred the cookie sheet to the top of the stove’s burners, and then closed the door.
The oven would heat back up, regaining what was lost when she opened the door, while she was finishing the last two pies.
“Can never have too many pie tins, especially with a family as big as ours. We'll be using all of them today.”
“Yes, Granny,” Applejack said as she opened a cupboard, fishing out the last two pie tins in the whole house. One was a gift from Filthy Rich. It had the Barnyard Bargains logo on the underside of the tin, but despite the branding, it was one of the best darn pie tins the family had. They usually only brought it out for special occasions or if they were baking a pie for Filthy Rich. In this case, she was calling it into service for a very special occasion.
The other pie tin was one that Applejack herself cherished, less for its baking prowess and more for the memory tied to it. It was the pie tin she had gotten at the Rainbow Falls Trade Exchange, the one Rarity had given to her after their little spat. The pie tin was a little bent and bruised, but still made great pies. It reminded Applejack of her friendship with Rarity in so many ways.
Applejack set the two pie tins out and began cutting circles out of the pie dough. She got through the first two circles, forming a perfect pair of bottom crusts, which she laid out in the pie tins. Next came the filling, poured and spread into the waiting crust with care. After that, she smushed the remaining dough back together and rolled it out again. She fetched the coin, checked the thickness one final time, and then cut out the last two circles. Finally, Applejack lovingly placed the top crusts over the filling, as if dressing a fancy table with a fancy tablecloth. There wasn't a wrinkle or imperfection to be seen.
“Remember, Applejack, be sure to sprinkle a little cinnamon on top of that crust and to crimp the edges the way I showed ya. Nothing ruins a pie or an oven faster than if you get filling bubbling out.”
Applejack’s hooves were already moving with an experienced precision as she pressed and folded the edges of the crusts together. “Yes, Granny," she said as she finished crimping the edges. With the filling sealed inside the two pies, she applied a gentle dusting of cinnamon to the top of each.
“And don’t forget the venting holes either. And no, you can’t just put those three little holes in the middle like you see on the pies in town. Our apples are too darn juicy for that. You make that ring of venting holes like I showed ya.”
“Yes, Granny,” Applejack recited again, gently coughing once more into her shoulder. She held the position for a moment, just pressing her nose into her shoulder as she took a moment to steady herself. Then, she went right back to work. She picked up the knife she had been using for all the other pies and placed a dozen air vents in a neat circle, each vent hole about halfway between the center and the crimped edges of the pie.
Applejack then set the knife down and stepped back to admire her work. The last two zap apple jam pies were darn near perfect.
“Good job, but don’t go gawking at them right now. Get them pies in the oven and start on that whipped cream!”
Applejack got choked up a little again but nodded her head. “Yes, Granny.” She placed the two pies on a fresh cookie sheet, slipped them into the oven, and set the timer. Then it was straight over to the refrigerator, where she pulled out a bowl of whipping cream that had already been prepared.
She got out an old egg beater, holding the handle with her mouth as she placed her forehooves on the pedals. It took some effort to balance on her back hooves, but the egg beater made the best whipped cream. Today, only the best would do.
“AJ?”
Applejack flinched, stumbling forward and almost face planting into the bowl of unwhipped cream. She just barely managed to catch herself. Letting the egg beater drop into the bowl, she looked at the window. She had to stare a moment, her mind catching up with reality, before she managed to speak. “Rainbow, what y’all doing here?”
“You asked me to come get you when it was time to pick up Apple Bloom from the train station.”
“Shoot, is it that late already?” Applejack looked at the clock, cursed under her breath, then looked back at Rainbow. “Good thing I got those pies in. Come around to the door, I’ll be just a minute.”
Rainbow nodded, disappearing from the window as Applejack quickly scooped up the bowl of whipped cream. She placed it, the egg beater still resting inside, into the fridge. It would keep long enough for her to get to the train station and get back, and the pies would still be baking.
She surveyed the kitchen after closing the refrigerator door. Nothing else needed to be put away. There would be cleaning to do later, but it could wait. Applejack went to the sink, just to quickly wash her hooves before drying them on a cotton sackcloth rag that hung nearby. She then trotted to the door. Her hat and her red ribbon were hanging from a hook on the wall. Applejack picked up the hat and gently placed it on her head, but did not reach for the red ribbon. Instead, her hoof reached for another ribbon that was resting on the edge of a nearby counter. With a few twists of her hoof, she had tied the black ribbon into her hair.
A final steadying breath, she opened the door. Rainbow was waiting patiently, actually managing to remain still as she stood on the welcome mat. She had been looking off into the orchards when Applejack opened the door. When she turned her head to look at her friend, she gently smiled. She had her mane done up so it wasn't hanging everywhere and the colors gently covered with a black veil. There was also a black bracelet around the ankle of her left foreleg.
The pair hugged on the doorstep. “Hey, sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt you,” Rainbow said.
“No, that’s why I wanted you to come. I knew I’d lose track of time.” Applejack patted Rainbow’s back before the pair separated. “We better get going. I want to be there when Apple Bloom gets in. After rushing back from that cutie mark mission thing she and her friends were doing, she deserves to have her big sister and big brother waiting at the station. We'll have to grab Big Mac on the way too.”
Rainbow nodded and stepped off the welcome mat. Applejack followed, walking out of the kitchen. Once she was clear of the door, she turned around. She opened her mouth to say goodbye to Granny, but looking back, all she saw was an empty kitchen. The words caught in her throat, and she just lingered, her hoof on the handle of the kitchen door as she just stared.
“Applejack, you okay?” Rainbow asked, noticing her friend had stopped dead in her tracks.
“Ye… yeah, just… just thinking, is all. Come on, let’s get going. Got to get Apple Bloom, get back here, and then take everything into town for the... I mean, there are going to be a lot of ponies. Granny would want us to make sure that everyone gets something good to eat. Even at her own... “ She closed the door, the last word refusing to leave her lips. A word that tasted foul in her throat, and yet, she couldn’t spit it out.
Rainbow moved in slowly, gently extending a hoof, and Applejack fell into a hug. The pair stood there a moment, Applejack shivering a little, her breathing ragged. The tears wanted to come, but… she couldn’t greet Apple Bloom with teary eyes at the train station. Just a little longer, just a little longer and then… then she, they all, could cry later. Still, Rainbow’s friendly, supportive hug was giving Applejack the strength to steady herself.
“Thanks, Sugarcube,” Applejack said once they finally began to separate.
Rainbow patted Applejack’s shoulder once before turning so they could begin walking to town. “No problem.”
Applejack fell in line behind Rainbow, but before they had even gotten a dozen steps away, Applejack looked back one last time. Her hooves kept carrying her forward, but her eyes looked to the pies she could see cooling through the kitchen window. In her mind, another memory began to play. This time it began with a much younger version of her own voice.
“Granny, what are you doing?”
“Why, I’m making apple pie for dinner tonight.”
“Can I help?”
In Applejack’s mind, she could clearly remember Granny’s happy, warm smile. “Course, sweetie, but you better be ready to do everything I say. The Apple Family has a tradition of making the best apple-tastic treats, so it will take a lot of learning to get everything right. You sure you’re ready?”
Applejack stopped as she continued to stare through the kitchen window, feeling a tear roll down her face. She smiled, nodded, and then turned to catch up with Rainbow. “Yes, Granny,” Applejack said with a small crack in her voice, “and thank you.”
In memory of my own grandmother,
who passed away in March of 2017 at the age of 88.
She was a strong woman who lived independently to the very end,
and I will cherish the family recipes I learned from her forever.