Nectarine Bourbon Galette & A Galette Party!

Recently, Kingston and I threw a little party for a couple of preschool friends that he's stayed in touch with and seen often this summer.

Everyone needs friends, but before I had a child, and a boy no less, I didn't spend much time thinking about how children actually develop relationships with one another. It's been fascinating, though, to watch Kingston -- and his often rough-and-tumble guy buddies -- create relationships filled with a lot of visible tenderness.

It's been an important reminder to me of how real, sustained connection with others allows us to truly thrive. To kick your feet and swing together toward the sky, laughing and calling out to each another with joy. Or, to hold hands just because you're happy to see each other. Does it get any better than that?

The day of our party, the boys came over with their moms and we quickly got going. I had set up three stations on our dining room table where we could work together. Mamas paired up with their boys to roll out dough that I had made ahead of time. Sure, there was some manhandling involved. Dough was squished with warm hands and much enthusiasm. But, it was all okay.

We filled our rolled-out dough with different types of fruit: blueberries we'd picked together a few days earlier at a farm in Ferndale, pears that one smart mama had preserved with a dash of brandy last summer. Then, we made a couple of galettes with nectarines from Eastern Washington.

Which brings me to the nectarine. Why is it that I've never heard anyone gush about eating the "perfect" nectarine? Usually, that sort of praise is reserved for summer peaches and jewel-toned plums. I mean, listen to Mark Bittman in his book, How to Cook Everything. He writes, "The peach is not only delicious. It can be downright erotic. Nectarines, good as they are, are not in the same league."

Pretty gushy.

But the nectarine! Let's not forget about its virtues. I get woozy from their sweet aroma as they sit nonchalantly on the kitchen counter. The smooth-skinned fruit doesn't have to be peeled like its fuzzier relative. When I eat a juicy nectarine out of hand, I don't wince when I eat the skin, like I do with many types of plums. In my mind, it is equal to any peach.

But back to the dough squishing.

I have to admit that I was very surprised once I pulled our first tray of goodies out of the oven. The "well-handled" dough had become transformed into golden, flakey crust. What a surprise! 

To me, this proved a couple of important things. First, that anyone can bake a beautiful free form galette or tart. And second, that if you are going to let anyone, including a bunch of preschoolers make pastries, this is a good dough recipe to use.

Even if you are only four years old, baking and creating together offers a lot of positives that go beyond pleasing the palate and the belly. Our activity that afternoon let both kids and grownups work and learn together in a joyful, fun and tactile way. It also gave us a chance to strengthen connections and deepen friendships.

After everyone ate, helped clean up and then went home, I found another round of dough in the fridge, along with extra nectarines. I rolled out the dough, sliced the fruit and tipped in a bit of Kentucky bourbon. As I put my own grown-up galette into the oven, I felt content. Full of the sweetness of fruit, buttery crust and the tender kindness of friendship.

Nectarine Bourbon Galette
Here's my ode to the nectarine. Since I was going for quickly making a lot of dough for the party, I used my food processor. You can use the food processor method here or also make this by hand. If you want to make a larger quantity of dough to throw your own party, simply multiply the amounts. In my 14-cup food processor, I am able to make up to four times the amount of the dough below.

Makes one large galette.

Ingredients:
Crust
1 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 cup spelt flour (or use all-purpose)
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 cup butter, cold, cut into small cubes
1/4 cup ice water

Filling
5 cup nectarine slices, about 1/4 to 1/3 inch thick
1/2 teaspoon lemon zest, finely minced
1 tablespoon bourbon
1/4 cup natural cane sugar, plus 1 tablespoon
1/4 cup natural brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt

1/3 c almonds, coarsely ground
1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon granulated sugar

To finish
1 egg white
1 tablespoon water
2 tablespoons turbinado sugar

Instructions:
Preheat oven to 375°F. Prepare a baking sheet with parchment paper.

In a food processor, pulse together flour(s) and salt. Add butter, pulse for no longer than 10 seconds. The mixture will look like coarse cornmeal. Turn processor on then add water in a steady stream. It will become incorporated within 15 to 20 seconds and you'll see the dough come together. Don't process it longer, or your dough may become tough. Remove dough from bowl of processor and onto a lightly floured board or counter top. Form into a flat round, about 1 1/4-inch thick. Wrap tightly with plastic wrap and place in refrigerator while preparing the filling.

In a large bowl, toss together nectarine slices, bourbon, sugars and salt. Set aside. In a small bowl, mix together ground almonds, flour and sugar. Set aside.

On a work surface lightly dusted with flour, roll out chilled dough. Use light pressure, rolling from the middle toward but not all the way to the edge. Give the dough quarter turns as you go. When the dough is about 10 inches in diameter, dust lightly with flour then flip over. Continue rolling your circle of dough until it is 12 inches in diameter. Fold dough into quarters and transfer to prepared baking sheet. Spoon almond mixture onto the middle and spread into a thin, circular layer. Spread nectarine mixture on top, leaving a 3-inch edge of uncovered dough. Fold edges of dough over the filling, leaving the center part exposed, and forming a more or less circular shape.

Beat together egg white and water. Brush egg wash all over the dough. Sprinkle with turbinado sugar. Place on center rack of preheated oven. After 20 minutes, rotate the galette and bake an additional 25 minutes, or until crust is golden to golden-brown and juices are bubbling.

Serve warm or at room temperature.

Chickpea Salad with Herbs and Feta

Our dog, Perry, died six weeks ago. For the past five weeks, I was writing a post in dribs and drabs about him, my sadness and how I was cranking up the oven in the middle of summer to bake loaves and loaves of bread in which to drown my sorrows. 

Perry and I were together for over a decade. He saw me through moving to another state, getting married and having a baby. He was a good, old guy. The best. But believe me when I say I am sparing you by not publishing that post. I think writing it was really just for me, a way to muck through my feelings about losing my dearest beast friend.

Perry and I back during our days of adventure. Here we are making a pit stop on our way to the Wildflower Triathlon in Paso Robles, CA. He was such a handsome fellow.

The thing about being sad is that it's really hard to dwell on it when you are busy. While our family had some down time right at the end of June, things quickly sped up to the point where I've had a hard time keeping the days straight. This is probably a good thing.

Our days lately have been filled with trips to San Juan Island and Lummi Island, parades, birthday parties, graduation celebrations, farm camp, nature camp, play dates, potlucks, war canoe scrambles, helping the local triathlon club to put on an Olympic-distance race, and so on.

Inside, I can still feel that thread to Perry flutter whenever I have a quiet moment. I miss him. No matter what, he had the ability to shake things off, live in the moment and feel joy in the little things, like having his ears scratched and his belly rubbed. Or, taking a quick walk through the woods. I've decided to honor him by moving forward in that spirit, trying to keep it simple and enjoying the small moments.

In addition to spending all that time writing the aforementioned "Horribly Sad Post," I found myself doing a lot of reading. Maybe it was a way to distract myself, who knows. Whatever it was, none of my summer reading so far probably makes much sense in terms of being either beachy or breezy. Here's a partial list:

1. In the Garden of Beasts by Erik Larson - Pre-WWII Berlin, Hitler's rise to power.
2. Regeneration by Pat Barker - WWI, the effects of trauma on British soldiers and officers. Truly, one of the most outstanding books I have read lately. Ms. Barker, you certainly outwrite the best of them.
3. About a Boy by Nick Hornby - Not exactly breezy, but so funny and filled with heaps of pure heart. About how friendship and connection from unexpected places can transform you.

Like others around here, we've also been getting out to see friends. With summer being so much about backyard barbecues and potlucks, I thought I'd include a salad that we've been eating a lot of lately. It's from my all-time favorite cookbook, Tessa Kiros' Falling Cloudberries. I love salads that contain both cooked and raw elements like this one. It is so full of freshness and flavor. I hope you'll try it and even bring it to your next get together. 

May your summer be full of friendship, love and well-constructed salads. Here's to holding onto memories of our dearest friends past and present, enjoying small pleasures and reveling in the simple moments. Cheers!

Chickpea Salad with Feta and Herbs

The herbs here add a fresh punch while the chickpeas and feta make it savory and satisfying. You can cook the onion-and-garlic mixture a day or two ahead. If you do that, you can throw the dish together in no time. The salad also keeps well for a couple of days once it's made. I've mostly just made adjustments to the quantities of the original recipe so that it could feed more people. Otherwise, it's pretty true to the original.

Serves 12 as a side dish.

Ingredients
3 1/2 cups dried chickpeas, soaked overnight then cooked OR 2 15-ounce cans chickpeas
1 cup olive oil
2 medium red onions, chopped
10 garlic cloves, minced
1/2 teaspoon red chile flakes
1/4 teaspoon salt, plus more as needed
6 ounces feta cheese, crumbled
6 scallions, green part only, chopped
1 bunch cilantro, chopped
1 bunch parsley, chopped
juice of 2 lemons
black pepper, finely ground

Instructions
Drain and rinsed cooked/canned chickpeas. Place in a large bowl and set aside.

Heat 3 tablespoons of the olive oil in a medium skillet and saute onions. When they become translucent and are starting to take on a golden color, add salt, garlic and chile flakes and cook for another 1 or 2 minutes. Remove from heat and allow to completely cool. 

Add onion and garlic mixture to the chickpeas, stirring together. Add feta cheese, scallions, parsley, cilantro, lemon juice and remaining olive oil. Combine gently. Taste and adjust for salt. Add black pepper to taste. Serve at room temperature, or cold.

Douglas Fir & Smoked Tea-Cured Salmon

Where did the past few weeks go? As soon as Memorial Day hit, the days just shifted into one big blur. 

First there was our town's biggest annual race, Ski to Sea, a seven-leg, multi-sport journey from Mt. Baker, with its ten-thousand-foot altitude start line to Marine Park at sea level for the finish. It's been going on since 1973 and is an event that celebrates our area's easy access to mountain, river, ocean and many other spectacular spots in between. This year, Marc raced the road bike leg for Tony's Coffee, our favorite local roaster, so we got out and did some cheering for them. 

Then, there were the birthdays! Three in one week, including mine, which meant eating a lot of cake. Something, if I am being perfectly honest, I don't mind doing, especially when I am offered a Pure Bliss cupcake.

We've also been experiencing the lowest tides of the year, so Kingston and I have been out with friends exploring the beaches and tide pools here in Bellingham as well as around the county. We've been seeing so many wondrous things! Dungeoness crabs mating, saddleback gunnels squiggling through the tide pools, banks of sand dollars seemingly multiplying before our eyes, purple starfish glinting in the light, squishy anemones that shrink at the touch. 

When you walk through the shallows, it's a completely different experience from just gazing out at a body of water from a distance, the dark blue vastness of it stretching out as if one entity. You see life teeming at your feet, even in a few inches of water and muck. Then there's all the stuff that can't be seen by the naked eye. It's all in there. I've often thought of the ocean as Mother Nature's womb -- the original starting point, a container for life that is so rich and varied that most of us can recite only a handful or two of its inhabitants' names. 

The beaches here are completely different from what I grew up with in Southern California. Washington beaches tend to be narrow, disappearing with the rising tide, then rocky with its waning. Coastal forest often abuts these types of beaches. To me, they are moody places full of hidden mysteries meant to be uncovered with careful attention and a spirit of awe, as we step lightly through them wearing of course, the proper foot gear. 

A dungeoness crab moves through the tidepool...Do you see it peeking out?

The other day, Marc, Kingston and I headed up to just such a place, the Point Whitehorn Marine Reserve, about 25 minutes north of us on the Georgia Strait. It's such a special place, with 54 acres of mature, wetland forest.

At the trailhead, you start along a path that meanders through the forest and takes you over wooden footbridges until you arrive at the stone and rock-covered beach. There are over two miles of public access beach to explore. That day, as we emerged from the forest, I gazed out at the ocean and thought about all that is sacred and worth protecting, like the woods, the waters that surround it and everything that lives here. 

When we got home, I wanted to make something that would embody the beauty of both the Pacific Ocean and our local forests. We've been out foraging a lot this spring and the light green tips of the Douglas Fir tips have been really inspiring me in the kitchen. They have a lemony flavor and if you stuff a bunch of them into your mouth and chew, first you get a hit of citrus then a hint of the tree's pine aroma, which lingers. I've been experimenting with the tips in all sorts of concoctions, including here in this version of cured salmon which is citrusy and smoky, woodsy and briny. 

Sockeye. Chinook. Coho. Pink. King. Chum. Steelhead. Salmon are synonymous with the Pacific Northwest, and are sacred to the Salish Coast people. But these creatures have so much stacked against them, from loss of habitat and pollution to inhospitably warm waters due to hydroeclectric dams and global warming. This makes them all the more worth valuing, protecting and celebrating.

Douglas Fir and Smoked Tea-Cured Salmon
I used wild sockeye, but other varieties will work as well. Just opt for wild over ocean-farmed, which contributes to concentrated areas of pollution. Learn more about best choices available to you from Monterey Bay Aquarium Seafood Watch. Lapsang souchong is a type of Chinese black tea traditionally finished through smoking over pine needles. As far as tree tips go, you can use other types such as those from spruce trees, though I find spruce to be a bit resinous for my taste.  

Adapted from Tasting Table.

Makes enough to feed six to eight.

Ingredients
One 1 1/4 lb. piece salmon, skin-on and preferably center-cut
1 1/2 tablespoons lapsang souchong tea
1 cup Douglas Fir tips
1/4 cup kosher salt
3 tablespoons natural cane sugar

Instructions
In a mortar and pestle or spice mill finely grind the tea. Finely mince the fir tips. Place both in a small bowl and add salt and sugar. Combine well.

On a tray large enough to hold the fish, spread out half the curing mixture. On top of this, place the salmon skin side down. Spread the remaining mixture on top of the fish, making sure it is evenly coated. Tightly wrap and place in the refrigerator for 8-10 hours. 

When cured, remove salmon from tray and rinse under running water without rinsing the little bits of rub that remain on the fish. Pat dry with paper towels. To serve, slice very thinly against the bias. This is great served on a good bread, such as pumpernickel. 

Chocolate Squirrel Ice Cream with Hazelnuts and Breadcrumbs

Sometimes I wonder whether it's an advantage or a disadvantage for a child to have a therapist as a parent. (For my son, that would be a former therapist.)

Is there incessant analyzing of the child's every word and action?

Or, maybe too much explaining about feeling states? Repeated empathizing comments about how it's okay to feel how you feel but not to act upon it?

Am I screwing him up for life?

I sure hope not.

Being a little neurotic ("healthy neurotic," as mental health researchers call it), I am prone to such questions making sudden appearances, traveling from the hinterlands of my mind right to the fore. The healthy part though, is that I am able to step back and see the entire picture, including what's positive.

So, I do appreciate those moments where something occurs to reassure me that everything will work out fine. We had one such moment the other day at the park when I was squatting under the playground apparatus trying to hide from the burning hot Western Washington sun like some kind of vampire. Too hot! Too bright! 

I happened to be sitting beside one of those fake windows built for imaginative play. Kingston walked up to the opposite side of the window. I glanced up at him and found myself asking, "Would you like some ice cream? My store has lots of flavors."

"What kind?" He said, not missing a beat.

"Um. Let's see. I have vanilla..."

His eyes widened.

"And I have chocolate. Strawberry...Or maybe you'd like some chocolate swirl?"

His serious but wide-eyed expression transformed into a huge smile.

"Chocolate squirrel!" 

For a moment, I tried not to laugh, but my heart was filled with light -- with delight, really. Then, from thin air, I scooped great mounds of "chocolate squirrel" onto a cone and handed it to him. He took it carefully from me then asked for a napkin.

When we came home I decided I had to figure out how to make actual, real Chocolate Squirrel for him. After many vanilla-based experiments (oh my poor family - so much ice cream to eat), we all agreed that this was the right version for us.

Chocolate Squirrel Ice Cream with Hazelnuts and Breadcrumbs
That Nigel Slater. He's such a genius. When I came across his recipe for a hazelnut and breadcrumb cream and yogurt concoction, I knew I had to drop the homemade Nutella one I had been working on, even though it had been good. My friend Vicky had also just been complaining to me about how every year, the squirrels get all the hazelnuts from her tree before she can pick any of them. So of course I had to stick with the hazelnuts. This is a slightly pebbly, crunchy vanilla-based ice cream that is just the thing for anyone, whether human or squirrel. 

Slightly adapted from Nigel Slater with help from David Liebovitz

Makes about 1 1/2 quarts

Ingredients
About 1 1/3 cups fresh breadcrumbs
1/3 cup light brown sugar, packed
2/3 cup skinned, toasted hazelnuts

1 3/4 cup heavy whipping cream
1 1/4 cup whole milk
1/2 cup granulated vanilla sugar, or regular sugar
pinch of salt
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 vanilla bean, seeds scraped from pod
6 egg  yolks

1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/3 cup Lyle's Golden Syrup (or substitute light corn syrup)
1/2 cup water
6 tablespoons unsweetened Dutch-process cocoa powder
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

For the breadcrumbs
Preheat oven to 375°. 

Place the breadcrumbs on a baking sheet and scatter the sugar over it. Coarsely chop hazelnuts. Add to the breadcrumb mixture. Put in upper rack of oven for 8-10 minutes, keeping an eye on it, as the sugar can burn. When golden brown and well toasted, remove from the oven and allow to cool completely. This can be made a day in advance.

For the chocolate swirl
Whisk together sugar, golden syrup, water and cocoa. Over low heat bring mixture just to a boil, cooking for about one minute. Turn off heat and pour into a heat-proof container. Cool mixture and place in the fridge. This is best prepared the day before, as this will thicken in the fridge. 

For the ice cream custard
In a large bowl, prepare an ice bath. Place a smaller bowl in the ice bath and set a fine-meshed strainer on top. Pour heavy cream through the sieve into the bowl.

In a small saucepan, combine sugar and milk. On medium-low heat, warm the mixture. When warm, add the scraped vanilla bean pod and seeds. Turn off heat, cover with lid, and allow vanilla to infuse for 30 minutes.

After the 30 minutes, reheat the milk over medium-low heat until it is hot, Stir together egg yolks. Add a few tablespoons of milk to the yolks and stir quickly. Add a bit more milk and stir again. This warms up the egg yolks and prevents them from curdling.

Pour the yolk mixture into the heated milk-sugar mixture and stir quickly using a heat-proof spatula. Continue stirring and scraping the bottom. This will prevent lumps and clumps from forming. As you stir and scrape, you will eventually notice that the bottom is becoming easier to scrape. It almost feels silky, as if the spatula is gliding across the bottom of the saucepan. This is a sign that your custard is nearly done. It is fully done when the mixture coats the spatula.

Pour the custard through the sieve and into the bowl of cream. Scrape any remaining goodness from the spent vanilla pod into the bowl as well. Add vanilla extract. Mix quickly and vigorously so that everything is combined and cools slightly. Cover the bowl and place in the refrigerator to cool completely. Overnight is best.

When the mixture has thoroughly cooled, place it in your ice cream maker and churn according to manufacturer's instructions. Once you have started the churning, add the breadcrumb and nut mixture.

When finished churning, drizzle chocolate mixture into the bottom of a freezer-proof container.  Place half of the finished ice cream on top of the chocolate, then add more chocolate on top, swirling through the ice cream. Add remaining ice cream then drizzle more chocolate over the top again and swirl. Cover or wrap tightly and place the container in the freezer for a few hours to firm up a bit more.

Black-and-Blueberry Pie with Spelt Crust

If you've been reading along this summer, you already know that one of the things I love doing most in the world is picking berries. For me, it's one of the most dreamy and relaxing things I could ever be doing other than lying in a shady patch on a warm, sunny day relaxing with my eyes closed and perhaps actually dreaming.

When the opportunity came up recently to head to Bow Hill Blueberries for some U-Pick, I got Kingston dressed, stuffed him into the car seat and jumped in after him.

Bow Hill Blueberries is located about thirty miles south of us at the end of a narrow, winding Chuckanut Drive, with its spectacular cliff drop offs and the Pacific Ocean alongside. Here, you land in Bow-Edison and its alluvial plains stretching out toward the ocean. It's one of my favorite spots. 

Berry picking, especially at a U-Pick farm is always better when in the company of friends who equally love the activity. On this particular day, we were with Jet, who is a month older than my Kingston, and his mom, Vicky. Armed with our all-day grazing passes (refunded if you pick at least 10 pounds, which we wisely did), we made our way slowly through rows of Rubels toward the smaller heirloom Stanleys with their pure, blueberry flavor. 

Kingston and I first met Jet and Vicky in gymnastics class when the boys were about a year old. They seemed to have similar temperaments -- more on the cautious side, two little observers while the rest of the tiny humans in class veered toward wildness, scampering across balance beams and fearlessly practicing forward somersaults down padded pretend hills. Vicky and I always chatted in class and eventually, we began to meet up with each other for outside activities.

It's never been easy for me to make friends. I seem to fall into the category of an introvert who appears to others to be an extrovert. This is sometimes a strange line to walk. It's easy enough to start up a conversation with someone, but to venture further is often daunting, mostly when it's a complete stranger. When it's happening it can feel like my insides are being scrubbed by a very rough scouring pad. It's not at all that I am wary of people. I am fascinated by other humans -- what motivates them, the experiences that shape how they see the world. Hence, my former occupation as a therapist. 

I suppose in the end, we are just wired to lean a little this way or that. Or to sit somewhere in the middle. 

I think Vicky is a bit like me, except maybe actually more extroverted. And she's always curious. She's the one who will always want to go beyond the small patch of the park or beach that we're sitting on to see what's "over there." We usually end up discovering something.

It's good to have a friend like that. Meanwhile, I'm the one who is always thinking and reflecting and wondering about life and what it all means (I know, boring!) and this is happening in my head while we are just walking along, sitting, or watching the boys flick stones across the water together on a Friday afternoon.

Summer is for spending time outside. Sauntering along trails, watching the blue jays flit around the cottonwoods, and yes, picking berries. Summer is for the days when the sun is high for what seems to be stretches of days, weeks at a time. Summer is for chatting with a friend while baking pie. This pie.

Enjoy it while it lasts.

All dressed up and ready to go...into the oven.

Black-and-Blueberry Spelt Crust Pie
This is a beautiful, juicy pie full of purple jewels of fruit. The spelt flour gives it a slightly nutty flavor and makes for a somewhat more sturdy but still flakey crust. I bake crusts made with 100% all-purpose flour at high heat first then turn it down to 350°, but this crust seems to come out better when baked at one temperature as directed below. The process might seem long and the effort level fairly high, but I promise it's really, really worth making and sharing with friends, or anyone else you like -- perhaps even a stranger.

Adapted from Bon Apetit, with help from Kate McDermott.

Serves 8-10.

Ingredients
Crust
1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup spelt flour
1 tsp. kosher salt
1 stick plus 6 tablespoons cold, unsalted butter, cubed
10 tablespoons ice water

Filling
1 3/4 pounds blueberries (5 1/2 cups)
6 oz. blackberries (1/2 dry pint), gently mashed with a fork
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg, freshly grated
1 tablespoon finely grated lemon zest
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1 large egg, beaten with 2 tablespoons of water

Turbinado or demerara sugar for sprinkling

Instructions
For the crust:
Whisk together both flours and salt. Toss butter into the flour mixture, so that all pieces are coated. Putting hands into an offering gesture, place some of the flour and butter into your open-palmed hands. Using your fingers and thumbs, press down on the butter, smearing it into the flour. Allow bits of the mixture to fall back through your fingertips and into the bowl. Repeat until you have worked the butter through most of the flour. You will notice that you can really start smelling the butter, which means that it is warming up and getting worked in.

Drizzle ice water over the flour-butter mixture in a spiral working from the outside in. Toss the mixture with your fingers or a fork. Press together a bit of the dough. If it holds together, it is ready. Press the mixture together into a dough. Turn out onto a work surface, divide in two and pat each portion into a chubby disk. Wrap disks separately in plastic and refrigerate for an hour

When the dough is well chilled, remove one disk from the refrigerator and roll out. The best way to do this is to unwrap the dough, placing it onto a lightly floured work surface. Take your rolling pin and wack it a few times on each side. Roll out from the center, sprinkling with a bit of flour as needed, until the dough is a 12-inch round. Fold into quarters and transfer it to a 9-inch pie pan, easing it in gently. Unfold. Trim overhang to 1 inch. Place in the freezer for 10-15 minutes.

Meanwhile, get the filling ready.

For the filling:
Place granulated sugar in a bowl. Add berries, flour, salt, lemon zest, lemon juice and nutmeg. Toss well to combine. Place filling into the prepared bottom crust. 

For completing the pie:
Roll out the second disk of dough to a 12-inch round. Lay the dough over the filling and trim the overhang to 1 inch. Cut vents into top crust. Press the overhang together and crimp or create decorative edge of your choice. Alternatively, you can make a lattice top as I did by cutting the second rolled-out crust into even strips and laying them on top of the filling in a weave pattern. Then, fold the edge of the bottom crust over the lattice edges to seal. Place pie in freezer for 1 hour.

Preheat oven to 375°. Brush pie with egg wash and sprinkle generously with turbinado or demerara sugar. Bake for about 1 hour 15 minutes, until the crust is golden brown and the filling is bubbling. If the edges get dark too quickly, cover them with foil. Cool the pie completely before serving. Several hours to overnight is best.