When I went apple picking a few weeks ago, I chose only the biggest, fattest, juiciest apples I could find. I didn't want any of those dinky baby apples. Nope. Go big or go hungry, I thought. But then after I brought them home and ambitiously chomped down on these delicious tree fruits, I realized I tap out after about two (I'm an apple lightweight, I guess). I started to wonder if it was such a great idea to take home a sack of apples as big as myself. I had grandiose dreams of apple desserts and sauce and juice for days, but these dreams, like so many others, were pushed aside and slowly withered like the last of my baby spinach. I started to think my sauntering through the orchard giddily grasping at the biggest apples I could find was all for naught, but then Friendsgiving presented an opportunity. Sure, I don't particularly love apple pie, and true, I had never made one before, but I decided it was going to happen and it was going to happen good.
The first thing I did was Google "Apple Pie Recipe," so naturally I can't find it now, but I followed it and it looked something like this. First I peeled and cut a bunch of apples while FaceTiming my sister, who informed me that the chopping sounded eerily similar to a ping-pong game, then I tossed the apples with brown sugar, white sugar, nutmeg, cinnamon, flour and vegan butter. I bought two pre-made crusts, but then decided I wanted to get fancy so I rolled one out with a rolling pin, cut it into strips and got my lattice on. Baked that sucker and boom, it looked like I knew what I was doing.
So I guess the point of this post is to say, "Hey, look what I did with my fat apples!" Perhaps you will give it a try? I hear apple pies are a big hit at Thanksgiving celebrations.