Even if today's movies aren't as provocative as 'The French Connection,' the homemade snacks and the sweet memories can make a routine telecast something special.
At the first Academy Awards I remember watching, “The French Connection” won best picture.
I remember that, not because I was interested in the show or the movie. I was not yet 10; of course I hadn’t seen it. All these years later, I still haven’t seen it. But I remember the awards telecast showed lengthy clips from the best picture nominees that night, and the clip from “The French Connection” had a car chase in it. I remember sitting on the floor in our living room in Colorado Springs, watching those cars careen recklessly down the streets of New York City as an elevated train rumbled overhead, and thinking I had, if only for a moment, been allowed entrance into a foreign and forbidden world.
Way back then, kids mostly didn’t get to see movies where people did bad things or said bad words or came to bad ends. Mostly, when we saw movies (at theaters with sticky floors and red velveteen chairs, our siblings at our side), we saw films that included cartoons (“Bedknobs and Broomsticks” won an Oscar for best special visual effects that same “French Connection” year) or singing (“Fiddler on the Roof” won that year for best original song score, best sound and best cinematography) or familiar stories (“Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory” was nominated for, but did not win, best original song score). Although I had seen those three kid-friendly movies, they did not interest me like that little glimpse into the secrets of adults.
As I got older, I saw many of the movies and felt invested in the awards. In recent years, mostly, I’ve only known the nominees by reputation. This year, because the pandemic has given the world a long pause and because the Academy accepts films created by streaming services, I’ve seen more of the nominees than I’ve seen in past years: “Nomadland,” “Ma Rainey,” “The Trial of the Chicago 7,” “The U.S. vs. Billie Holiday,” “One Night in Miami,” “Hillbilly Elegy.”
They were good.
All of them
But maybe not as good as that clip from “The French Connection.”
I come by my interest in the Oscar spectacle honestly:
My mother was a movie fan.
She saw her first movie — “Curly Top” with Shirley Temple — at the Aggie Theater in downtown Fort Collins when she was, like, 4 or 5 years old, a gift adventure from an aunt who was visiting the family from Nebraska. As a young woman, she went to lots of movies with her siblings and girlfriends. (She and her friends skipped school to see “Gone with the Wind” at the Joy-o in Havelock, Nebraska, and ran into her father on the street outside the theater. Although she was afraid she was going to be in deep
trouble, he gave her a pass. As far as I know, she never skipped school again. Many years later, when I saw "Gone with the Wind" for the first time, I watched it with my mother and sister at the Aggie Theater in downtown Fort Collins. ) Later, after the days of movie magazines and movie dates had come and gone, and as a young mother with four little children, she sent her kids to the movies when she wanted time to herself (notably, on Christmas Eve and on a regular basis during long summer days when there was nothing else to do and an afternoon in a movie theater cost a quarter). As an old woman (whatever that means, whenever that started), she revisited those classic movies — “Meet Me in St. Louis,” “The Best Years of Our Lives,” “Rebecca,” “The Last Time I Saw Paris” — on VHS and DVD, maybe also On Demand although I can’t quite remember when that started.
She also was a fan of the Academy Awards — the pretty dresses, the appearances by old movie stars, the clips of car chases from movies she hadn’t, wouldn’t, never did see. She liked to make a night of it. We had pizza (homemade when her own kids were little, delivered from Pizza Hut or Pulcinella when her grandkids were visiting); and halfway through the evening we had snacks (cheese and fruit platters, maybe popcorn, sometimes hot chocolate, when her own kids were little; caramel popcorn fresh from the oven when her grandkids were visiting.)
The caramel popcorn kind of became a thing.
When my nephews were school-aged, they spent every Spring Break in Fort Collins, and for a number of years, that Spring Break coincided with the Academy Awards. There are three boys, six years between the oldest and youngest, and truthfully they weren’t that interested. Not enough car chases, I guess, but the caramel popcorn kept them rooted in front of the TV.
The year Bruce Springsteen sang his award-winning “The Streets of Philadelphia,” the youngest, Jack, who must have only been 6 at the time, and was recovering from strep throat, said: “Why’s that man so angry?” It seemed surprisingly insightful for such a little fellow, but after that I think he was ready for bed.
One year, maybe the year “The Lord of the Rings” won best picture, we taught them to gamble. We gave each of them a dollar to put in the pot and a ballot; and in between trips to the oven to check on the popcorn, we checked off our picks as beautiful people picked up their statuettes. The prospect of 6 dollars kept their attention all the way until the last picture show was lauded. Grandpa (who says he doesn’t really like movies) won the pool that night — which was probably good, in a peacekeeping kind of way. The next day he shared his winnings with the boys in the form of doughnuts.
For a year or two after they moved the Oscars broadcast so that it no longer coincided with Spring Break, I sent the boys caramel popcorn in the mail, hoping to cement in them some modicum of nostalgia for the nights we spent together. Now they’re men, and I have no idea if they still watch.
I do. And I think about them. Sometimes I make caramel popcorn. This year, though, I think there will be pie.
THE PIE
I tried to come up with a recipe that was somehow reminiscent of those days watching the Academy Awards with three little boys and a big bowl of caramel popcorn. This recipe is that, elevated.
I’ve tried to make Caramel Apple Pie in the past with no luck. My last attempt, with a rosemary-infused caramel, was both unsuccessful and frustrating as I tried the caramel more than once, both “eyeballing” the color and using a candy thermometer, and being obsessive about following the instructions. The caramel never got brown, never got thick, never got creamy; and we ended up with plain old apple pie, which was good but obviously disappointing. This caramel recipe is not that. It’s easy to make, makes a generous amount so you can use it on ice cream or for a fruit dip after the pie is gone, and because it is salted, it is not cloyingly sweet.
Even though you’ve probably seen contestants on HDTV’s “Chopped” whip up caramel sauce and brickle in minutes, with hardly a thought, that is just the magic of television. Making caramel is easy but it requires attention. The trick is to stir constantly and to never take your eyes off it.
The Recipe
Caramel Apple Pie
with Popcorn Streusel and a Spiced Crust
Filling:
3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice (about the size of one large lemon)
3½ to 4 pounds (about 8 cups) tart apples, peeled, cored and cut into ¼-inch slices
¼ cup dark brown sugar
2½ tablespoon cornstarch
1½ teaspoons ground cinnamon
¾ teaspoon ground nutmeg
¼ teaspoon ground cloves
½ teaspoon salt
2 cups salted caramel sauce, divided (recipe below)
1 teaspoon almond extract (optional)
Crumb topping:
1 cup all-purpose flour
¼ cup whole wheat flour
¼ cup granulated sugar
¼ cup dark brown sugar
¾ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
¼ teaspoon ground nutmeg
½ cup (8 tablespoons) butter, melted
½ teaspoon almond extract (optional)
About 2 cups popcorn (optional)
Line a pie plate with Spiced Pie Crust. Crimp so that it extends about ½ inch above the edge of the pie plate. Cover loosely and refrigerate.
Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
Squeeze lemon juice into a large saucepan. Toss the apple slices into the lemon juice as you slice them to prevent browning.
Add brown sugar, cornstarch, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves and salt to a small bowl and stir to combine. Sprinkle over the apples and then mix with a wooden spoon until the apple slices are coated.
Stir 1 cup salted caramel sauce into the apples and set the pan over medium heat. Cook, stirring constantly, until the mixture begins to boil. Continue to stir and cook for another minute. Remove from heat and stir in almond extract.
Pour the filling into the uncovered pie crust. Heap the apples in the center. There will be lots of apples, but they will cook down as they bake. Place the pie plate on an aluminum foil-covered cookie sheet. (Make sure you use the cookie sheet because the caramel will almost certainly make a mess in your oven if you don’t.) Bake uncovered for 20 minutes.
While the pie begins to bake, add all the topping ingredients except butter, popcorn and almond extract to a bowl and mix to combine. Pour in the melted butter and almond extract and mix with your hands until all the dry ingredients are moistened. (It should be the consistency of wet sand, although the popcorn will alter this consistency.) If it’s too dry, add a little more butter, one tablespoon at a time. Mix in the popcorn.
Reduce the oven temperature to 375 degrees. Remove the pie from the oven and cover the apples with the crumb topping, squeezing the topping together to create some large clumps.
Return the pie to the oven and bake for another 35 minutes.
Cover the pie with aluminum foil to prevent the streusel from burning. Bake for another 20 minutes, until the filling is bubbly and the bottom crust is cooked through.
Remove the pie from the oven and let cool on a wire rack for at least 2 hours. Pour the remaining caramel sauce on the top of the pie and serve. (Or pour extra caramel sauce on each slice after cutting it and placing it on a plate.) This pie is best served warm or at room temperature
SALTED CARAMEL SAUCE
3 cups heavy cream
2 cups granulated sugar
¾ cup corn syrup
2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
In a medium saucepan, heat the cream to almost boiling — bubbles will start to appear around the edge of the pan. Turn down the heat to low and keep warm.
In a large saucepan, add 1 cup sugar, corn syrup and salt. Stir to moisten the sugar and then cook without stirring over medium heat just until the sugar starts to turn golden. If you notice the syrup is quickly turning brown in one spot, but the rest is not browning, grip both sides of the pan and swirl the syrup around to distribute the caramelizing sugar before it burns. Cook until all the syrup is light amber in color (yellowish).
Turn the heat down to medium low and add the remaining cup of sugar in three additions, stirring constantly, allowing each addition to melt before adding more. The sauce will continue to darken. Cook, stirring constantly until the sauce is a deep amber color. Watch the heat in order to keep the sugar from burning. The sauce should steadily darken in color; but if it begins to smoke at all, immediately remove it from the heat, stirring vigorously, and lower the burner heat. Return the pan to the burner and continue. If the sugar does turn black and burn, start over.
Turn the heat up to medium and add the warm cream in three additions. The cream will cause the syrup to bubble up — stir constantly and be careful to not let the hot steam burn you. It's kind of scary but only for a quick moment. Simmer for a minute or two between each addition of cream to reduce slightly. Once all the cream has been added, continue to cook, stirring constantly, until it forms a thick syrup.
To determine if it is done: If you lift the spoon from the caramel sauce and draw through the caramel on the back of the spoon using another spoon, the caramel will hold the line.
Remove from heat and stir in the vanilla. Taste — be careful, it's hot! — and add more salt and vanilla if desired. Pour into a container and let cool completely. The caramel will keep in the refrigerator for up to 6 months.
SPICED PIE CRUST
3 cups all purpose flour
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon ground nutmeg
1½ sticks (12 tablespoons) butter, cut into small pieces
¾ cup shortening or lard
1 tablespoon distilled vinegar
1 egg, lightly beaten
Mix flour, cinnamon, salt and nutmeg in bowl. Add butter and shortening. Work the butter into the flour mixture using a pastry cutter until it resembles tiny pebbles. Add the egg, vinegar and 5 tablespoons cold water and mix until well combined.
Form 2 equal-sized balls. Place in unsealed plastic bags or wrap with plastic wrap. Flatten each ball into a disk, and then seal bag. Dough should be chilled for at least 30 minutes before using. It can be frozen for up to three months.
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