Cranberry & Jalapeno Apple Pie

2 Pie Crusts

2c Fresh Cranberries

1/2 Large Jalapeno, diced

1c Orange Juice

1/2c Brown Sugar

1tbl cornstarch

Salt

~2lbs Pink Lady Apples, skinned cored and sliced

1/2c Brown Sugar

2tsp Cornstarch

1tsp Saigon Cassia Cinnamon

1/4tsp Allspice

1/4tsp Salt

I was going to make a pumpkin apple pie for Thanksgiving but then I was talking to this random dude about unique pie combinations and allegedly his wife had made a cranberry and jalapeno apple pie. He said she didn’t use a recipe and just came up with the idea one day. I told him that was brilliant and I am stealing it. Rather than throw everything in a bowl and mix it together, I decided to take a more calculated approach. I’m glad I did.

Dump the cranberries and jalapeno in a food processor, pulse the living shit out of them, and scrape them out into a small pot. Stir in the orange juice, brown sugar, and cornstarch. Simmer over low heat until thickened; this will take a fair amount of time. While that crap is going, cut up your apples and toss them with the remaining ingredients.

Fill one pie crust with the apples, pour the cooled cranberry jalapeno mixture over them, and top the whole thing with another pie crust. Crimp the edges to seal it and cut some vent holes. “Mine is a complete mess and it keeps falling apart! I followed your instructions exactly. What the hell?” This is obviously a case of user error. Did you place the first pie crust in a pie pan? “No, you didn’t tell me to.” Holy shit. Do you need me to hold your fucking hand and explain every little detail to you while we make this pie? “It couldn’t hurt.” Oh yes it could.

Bake the pie at 375 degrees for about an hour. Check it after 45 minutes to see if you need to lightly cover it with a tin foil tent so the top doesn’t burn. Let it cool for at least four hours. Bring this pie to your family’s Thanksgiving dinner and maybe they will not even remember that you blacked out and pissed in Aunt Gertrude’s closet last year. That’s the best you can hope for. No one will ever forget “Mescaline Christmas" when you smeared war paint all over your naked body and started screaming at the neighbors while brandishing a shotgun. The trial doesn’t even start until next month. Eat it.