For centuries, pie has been the encore performance of the Thanksgiving meal. Right around the time you’re starting to deeply regret your decision not to wear pants with an elastic waistband, enter the delicious triangles, whipped and ripe for the forking.
There’s just one problem. You’re so full. You’re. So. Full. Like any true American, you dig deep, grab a fork and find a way to shovel it in. (Because everyone knows if you don’t pie, the terrorists win.)
A couple years ago, my extended family decided to rock the gravy boat. As a pie-loving people, it came to their attention that we were not honoring pies by making them the afterthought of the meal. Pies are good. Pies are great. Pies deserved to be the star of their own show. And just like that: the PIE FOR BREAKFAST tradition was born.
Here is how PFB works: Wake up — > gather with family in pajama pants to partake in pie eating and drinking of champagne –> go home to put on real clothes/finish cooking your assigned dishes/pie-induced nap –> reconvene for Thanksgiving meal later in afternoon.
Pie now has a rightful place of honor as the starter to a full day of celebrating. Even the dogs get to partake.
This year, I invite you to join us in this unusual, if not a little irreverent, Thanksgiving tradition. If I’m being honest (and a little sentimental), it really is a perfect way to kick off a day whose hours tend to get whisked away in a flurry of dinging timers, centerpieces and place settings. Plus, I’m pretty sure it’s a scientifically-proven fact that it’s impossible to not feel great about the world when you’re eating pie and sipping champagne surrounded by your loved ones.
Ernestine Ulmer once said, “Life is uncertain. Eat dessert first.” From my spirited clan to yours, Thanksgiving is crazy. Eat pie for breakfast.
In honor of Pie for Breakfast, I shall now pass on my personal pie recipe, Good Girl/Bad Girl Pie. One part sweet, one part tart, this is the perfect recipe for anyone who simply can’t choose between apple and cherry. Prepare for all your piecurious fantasies to come true.
One frozen crust. (If you are into crusting from scratch, a quick google should provide plenty of recipes. Good luck with that, you crusty masochist.)
1-2 cans tart cherries, drained (not cherry pie filling)
3 tart apples, peeled and sliced (I use granny smiths, but feel free to go wild)
1/2 cup sugar
2 T. flour
2 t. cinnamon
1 t. nutmeg
pinch of ground cloves
3/4 cup oatmeal
3/4 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup flour
6 T. butter, chilled and cubed
3 t. cinnamon
Preheat oven to 400 F. Combine cherries, apples and dry filling ingredients in a bowl. Stir and spoon into crust.
In another bowl, mix together topping flour and cinnamon. Cut in butter cubes using your hands to blend the butter into the dry mixture. If the mixture is excessively greasy, add more flour. If mixture is too dry, cut in more butter. Lightly pack topping over the filling and place pie on a baking sheet covered with tin foil. Bake pie until topping is golden (approximately 35 minutes. Cover crust edges with foil to prevent over-browning. Reduce oven temperature to 350F. Continue baking until apples in center of pie are tender when pierced with a fork and filling is bubbly and thick at pie edges (approximately 25-35 minutes). Cool and serve.
If you want to get extra crazy, drizzle with some salted caramel bourbon sauce.
Craving something more? Enjoy one of my favorite holiday articles ever, 20 Guests, 19 Pies.