Glazed Apple Pie Bars

The first September approaches that I will not be going back to school. The realization hits differently each time — sometimes as relief, sometimes as grief, sometimes as a disorienting blankness, the feeling of a woman who has lost her calendar, her rhythm, her reason for ironing blouses. I do not iron blouses anymore. I cook in a kitchen apron and write in sweatpants and care for Marvin in whatever I'm wearing, because the dress code of retirement is: there is no dress code. This freedom should feel liberating. Instead it feels like the absence of structure, and the absence of structure feels like floating, and floating feels like drowning if you're not careful about which direction is up.

So I made structure. I made lists. I made a schedule — the writing hours, the cooking hours, the Marvin hours, the blog hours, the grandchild hours. I taped the schedule to the refrigerator next to Sophie's drawing and Ethan's card and the note from the colleague who said my soup was the best thing about October. The refrigerator is my office wall. The schedule is my syllabus. The kitchen is my classroom. I am teaching myself how to be Ruth-without-the-classroom, and the curriculum is: write, cook, love, endure. The curriculum is not complex. The execution is everything.

I made a peach pie — the last peaches of summer, sliced thin, layered in a buttery crust with cinnamon and sugar, baked until the filling bubbles and the crust is golden and the kitchen smells like August distilled. The pie was for the support group — Sandra's group — which I brought to the church basement on Wednesday with the pie and the admission that I am looking at facilities for Marvin. The group was kind. Sandra was kind. Doris, who has been through this, was especially kind. She said, "The facility is not the end of the loving. It's the continuation of the loving in a different place." I wrote it on a napkin. I keep the napkins. The napkins are accumulating. The napkins may also become a book.

The peach pie went to Sandra’s group, every last slice, and by Thursday morning the pie plate was washed and sitting empty on the counter like a question I hadn’t answered yet. So I answered it with apples — because the peaches are gone now, but the apples are just arriving, and if retirement has taught me anything in these strange first weeks, it’s that you bake with what the season hands you. These glazed apple pie bars gave me the same golden, cinnamon-warm kitchen, the same structure of measuring and layering and waiting, and enough portions to share with Doris, who earned every bite with that napkin-worthy wisdom of hers.

Prep Time: 30 minutes | Cook Time: 50 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 20 minutes | Servings: 24 bars

Ingredients

2-1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup shortening or cold butter, cubed
1 egg, separated
Whole milk (enough to make 2/3 cup when combined with egg yolk)
1 cup crushed cornflakes cereal
8 to 10 medium tart apples, peeled and thinly sliced (about 10 cups)
1 cup granulated sugar
1-1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 egg white, lightly beaten
1 cup powdered sugar
1 to 2 tablespoons milk
1 tablespoon lemon juice

Instructions

Prepare the crust. Preheat oven to 350°F. In a large bowl, cut shortening into flour until mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Place egg yolk in a measuring cup and add enough milk to measure 2/3 cup; stir into flour mixture until dough forms. Divide dough in half. Roll one half to fit the bottom and sides of an ungreased 15x10x1-inch jelly-roll pan.
Add the filling base. Sprinkle crushed cornflakes evenly over the bottom crust. This prevents the crust from getting soggy.
Layer the apples. Arrange sliced apples over the cornflakes. In a small bowl, combine granulated sugar, cinnamon, and nutmeg; sprinkle evenly over the apples.
Top and seal. Roll out the remaining dough and place it over the apple filling. Pinch the edges to seal. Cut small slits in the top crust to vent steam. Brush the top with beaten egg white.
Bake. Bake for 45 to 50 minutes, or until the crust is golden brown and the apples are tender. Remove from oven and let cool on a wire rack.
Glaze. In a small bowl, whisk together powdered sugar, milk, and lemon juice until smooth. Drizzle over the warm bars. Allow glaze to set before cutting into squares.

Nutrition (per serving)

Glazed Apple Pie Bars — Structure, Sweetness, and the Last Fruit of the Season