Now, I would not be amenable to making this little treat at any time of the day, and especially not when I first wake up. I am not so much a baker. And this is where it's useful to have the MiL around. Because my God, can that woman bake. She's totally spoiled her sons with baked goods, and now they expect nothing less than the very best. A. won't even eat pie anywhere but this county, because he says only women in this county can make a good pie crust. I think that's a little provincial, but I can see that his point of comparison is a little higher than your average Marie Callendar's pie. It is not unusual to have a dozen pies for two dozen people at the MiL's family holidays. Her mother had 6 kids, and 4 of them, including one of the boys, should have been pastry chefs. Seriously, it's nuts.
And here's the real kicker. She can't even eat this stuff. Because of a wheat sensitivity. Can you imagine baking an apple pie and then watching other people stuff their faces while you eat an oatcake? No, me neither. I'm not that selfless, sorry.
But this mad baking prowess is the reason I will not make pie. I have never in my life made a pie crust, and I'm sure as hell not going to start now. Too much pressure. I mean, Christ, the MiL rendered our own leaf lard primarily for pie crusts. How am I supposed to measure up to that?
I can't, and I'm okay with that. Because I happen to share a house with one of the best bakers outside a professional kitchen. So I can be lazy and just get up on Saturday morning to a freshly prepared apple confection. Works for me.