Now that I've established my level of curiosity at 4 and 5 I will tell you nothing much has changed since, and I expect I will continue to be curious and grateful that I'm not a cat. What has changed is my satisfaction of the answers I get. When I'm satisfied my curiosity stops, never for long though, because there's always a who, what, where, how, why, why not, or when question that skids into place begging a satisfactory answer.
Maybe my search for answers is a way of keeping me safe and in control and I absolutely do like to be in control, but that's an entirely different rabbit hole we don't have time to go down. So now I've found my safe and happy place in my kitchen writing about my ramblings. I'm constantly curious about new and exciting food to eat or new ways to make it. Back to the apples, and how to make an apple pie. Well apples, pastry and tadaaaaa! Remember stringing letters of the alphabet together to create words and stringing them together to create sentences; well stringing apples and pastry together DO NOT CREATE the pie. It's the way YOU do it that makes it YOURS. On the other hand should you download a recipe for apple pie and follow the steps shared with you, then you will have made an apple pie, you will own the apple pie that you made but you absolutely cannot, never, ever, say it's your Apple Pie Recipe. When you develop a recipe based on Apples and pastry that's open source and you can then put your name on the recipe. When you develop a recipe inspired by your Granny's Apple Pie Recipe then it would be a moral courtesy to acknowledge your Granny when calling the recipe yours. So here's the rub, and it's not butter and flour together. If I change one ingredient in someone else's recipe does the recipe become mine? Are the lines blurred now because the exact sequence of ingredients is changed? Well let me tell it's hard to reinvent the wheel and, I'll tell you, an apple pie recipe too. Yesterday, my heart was desperately trying to mend itself, but I needed the help of an apple pie. My Kitty Cat, Aria had taken the line up to heaven and I needed to find a way to say goodbye with a proper tribute. All I could think about on waking, apart from the sunless sunrise, was the Granny Smith apples I had in my fridge. My Granny Peggy made the most memorable apple pie I spent my life searching for in all the wrong places. I found her recipe earlier this year that for a stupid reason I had never tried to make because everything was in ounces and not grams, in gas marks and not Celsius. Pathetic I know, but I think on a deeper level I probably knew I could never recreate the memory of the best apple pie ever. It's amazing the tricks our minds play. I did make her apple pie and I botched it up entirely. Yesterday, armed with inspiration from my Granny Peggy and a deep desire to stop crying I needed to get on and make that Apple Pie . It was a cathartic experience and it helped me process so many emotions. The caramel and pastry were already in my freezer for these such emergencies. The apples, the lemon, the brown sugar, the perfect pan size, the oven temperature all strung together to make a apple pie from my heart. An original, a first, one never been made before. Yes, sure I used the same ingredients that all apple pies have, but I strung them together in a line inexorably drawn up to heaven.