A beautifully made, traditionalapple pieis a wonderful thing. But sometimes, it's nice to have an apple pie that stands out from the fruity crowd. My Epi colleauge Adina Steiman differentiates her apple pie byshunning cinnamonin favor of less familiar spices (she also adds raisins, but that's a whole different topic). Me, I practically pile the cinnamon in, but I prefer to fill my pie shell with a cooledcompoteinstead of the more traditional sliced apples. And instead of a top crust I top the whole thing off with...well, sliced apples.
The trick to decorating with sliced apples instead of filling a pie with them is to use a mandoline to slice the apples into paper-thin rounds. There's no need to core the apples: When sliced from bottom to top, the seeds fall away and the apple centers bare a beautiful star pattern. Just make sure to toss the slices in lemon juice or coldsimple syrup掺入了几勺柑橘类果汁keep them from browning.
There's no need to peel the apples before slicing either. When layered and baked, the unpeeled edges curl up into a flower-like pattern and darken along the edges, adding a wonderful complexity to the pie's overall flavor.
Once the pie is baked, I like to melt a few tablespoons of apple or apricot jelly—thinned with a little water or bourbon if necessary—and brush the syrup over the apples so they glisten.
If you prefer, instead of just using paper-thin apple slices as a topping, you can fill the entire pie with them, as Epi's Anna Stockwell did inthis recipe.The cinnamon sugar–dusted apple slices mimic the flaky layers of her low-fuss phyllo crust. As a bonus, slicing the apples this way and layering them—instead of cutting them into wedges or cubes—causes the pie shell to be filled to the brim with apples, leaving virtually no empty space for the filling to sink into as it bakes. Plus, it makes for a much prettier slice too.
