The pivotal point of a deep, rich Apple Chai Pie — or a controversial jury verdict — just
might be hidden in the secrets of the recipe, defying speculation and sport.
A district judge I used to know, in his opening remarks at a sexual assault trial, admonished the jury and audience members in the courtroom to not read reports of the trial in the press because, he said, you can’t necessarily believe what you read.
He made a point, maybe because I was there, to point out that he was not casting aspersions on members of the media or our sacred First Amendment rights. But, he said, reporters have lots to do and they won’t be in this courtroom gavel to gavel; they won’t see all you see or hear everything you hear. Their stories will likely be good stories, he said, but they won’t be whole stories; only those of you sitting in this room and then in the jury room will know the whole story.
I was a reporter then and all puffed up with the importance of that role and I took exception to the easy way he dismissed my dedication.
Later, during a recess, after exchanging some pleasantries, he said to me, “So you’re going to sit through the whole trial and make a liar out of me up there?”
The courthouse was just a couple blocks away from the paper. It was easy to rush back to the office during the lunch recess to write updates or sidebars and make it back before the trial reconvened, or to make afternoon deadlines when the trial recessed at day’s end. I was pretty sure I would be there opening arguments to final verdict.
“I’m going to try,” I said.
I don’t remember now if I did indeed sit through every minute of that trial. I know I sat through most of it. I know I was in the courtroom when the victim (or “accuser,” depending on your POV) had a seizure on the stand, requiring medical attention and an early adjournment for the day. I know people speculated, like they always do when a witness cries on the stand, on whether the teen-aged girl was “faking it.” I know the girl, who lived at some kind of facility for at-risk teens, said a counselor raped her. He was a good-looking 20-something man who seemed amiable as he sat at the defense table. I can’t remember if he took the stand in his own defense, but I can remember her description of the assault.
I remember eating flautas at a bar with a big neon rooster above the door as we awaited a verdict.
I think he was acquitted, but I don’t remember for sure. I remember instead the supposition and second-guessing and Monday-morning quarterbacking that followed. Even in the days before cameras in the courtroom, 24/7 news cycles and drone videos, some people made sport out of others’ tragedies.
I’ve been thinking about that trial, and others I covered, these past days while the news has been heavy with reports on Kyle Rittenhouse. In case for some unfathomable reason you don’t know, Rittenhouse is the young man who killed two people and maimed a third during an August 2020 protest in Kenosha, Wisc. The protest, which stretched into days and enflamed into nights, was in response to a police shooting in which a black man, Jacob Blake, was shot four times in the back by a white police officer.
Rittenhouse turned himself in to police the morning following the shootings and was charged with five counts, including intentional first-degree homicide and reckless endangerment. Had he been found guilty, he could have spent the rest of his life in prison.
The facts of the case weren’t really in dispute. As the protest-turned-riot roiled Kenosha, a business owner put out a call for help with security at his car lot. On the third night of the protest, Rittenhouse, a 17-year-old from Illinois crossed the state line to patrol the streets of Kenosha with an AR-15-style rifle. Toward midnight on Aug. 23, there was an altercation
It’s a complicated world, grown more so with pervasive technology, increased transparency and a painful racial reckoning — but I believe two things can be true at the same time.
Joseph Rosenbaum, 36, threw a bag of trash at Rittenhouse and chased the teen down the street. Rittenhouse shot and killed him. Rittenhouse was later confronted by Anthony Huber, 26, who tried to stop Rittenhouse from running away by hitting him with a skateboard, and by Gaige Grosskreutz, who pulled a handgun on him. Rittenhouse shot both of them. Huber died; Grosskreutz survived.
On the stand, Rittenhouse said that he was afraid for his life, that he didn’t want to kill anyone, that he acted in self-defense.
According to opinion peddlers on cable news and Facebook feeds, that’s what swayed the jury: the right to self-defense.
Or sending a message about the Second Amendment.
Or white privilege.
Or a prosecutor who overcharged.
Or the body-wracking sobs of a defendant with a baby face.
Or a judge in the tank for the defense.
Or a broken system with racism baked in.
Or too many women on the jury.
Or too few people of color.
Some of that might be true. Maybe all of it is. No one is expected to come to a jury without the benefit of their lived experiences, and skepticism and suspicion are good tools to pack whenever you leave the house. But, not being a part of the jury deliberations, we don’t really know what resonated or what led to the controversial verdict.
What we do know is that in Wisconsin, a defendant is guilty of first-degree intentional homicide if he “causes the death of another human being with intent to kill that person or another.”
Under cross-examination, Rittenhouse used those exact words: “I didn’t intend to kill him. I intended to stop the people who were attacking me.” Ultimately, everything else is just noise.
It’s a complicated world, grown more so with pervasive technology, increased transparency and a painful racial reckoning — but I believe two things can be true at the same time. I believe Kyle Rittenhouse was a kid raised in a gun culture (aren’t we all?) who thought on that hot August night that he was going to be a hero. As a 17-year-old boy, I think he didn’t have the maturity to know what that meant. I believe he shot those men because he was afraid for his life, but I’m sure his own bad decisions were the foundation of that fear. I believe Kyle Rittenhouse was right with the law, but it’s clear he was far from right.
That same judge from so long ago also told me, maybe at a different trial, that he believed in the jury system because most people, no matter how reluctant they are to serve, once impaneled, take the job of deciding someone’s future seriously and reach their verdict based on the law.
I believe that.
But I also believe there are problems in the system — racial and economic inequality chief among them — and that addressing those problems is how we move closer to America’s pledged value of “justice for all.”
I believe 30 years ago a handsome man could rape a troubled girl and get away with it. It still happens, but I believe because of outrage and transparency, the MeToo movement and good reporting, it’s less likely today.
***
(CORRECTION: A previous version of this blog incorrectly said Kyle Rittenhouse crossed the state line with his weapon. According to his own testimony at trial, Rittenhouse, 17 and an Illinois resident at the time of the protest, stored his AR-15-style rifle with an 18-year-old friend who lived in Wisconsin and who had purchased the weapon with Rittenhouse's money. Rittenhouse said he retrieved the weapon once he was in Kenosha.)
The Pie
Apple Chai Pie
When I first saw this recipe, I was intrigued by the thought of putting pepper in a sweet apple pie. Most apple pies are kind of cinnamon-forward, which I love, but this one tantalizes with other spices. As it bakes, your kitchen will fill with the warm comforting scents of spiced apple cider, spiced cookies, holiday treats. It seemed a good option for these darker, shorter, pre-holiday days. And as it turns out, the coarse black pepper adds just the right kick.
The original recipe calls for Honeycrisp apples, which are plentiful in the grocery store these days. I chose instead a variety with a natural red flesh, the Lucy Glo and the Lucy Red. These apples are also crisp, so they stand up well to a hot oven, and a little tart, so they complement the sweet sugars. Plus, they’re beautiful and steeped in the chai spices and tea, they emerge from the oven a deep, rich color that is reminiscent of falling leaves and woolen mittens.
I made this pie for my friend Mary, a woman I worked with when I was a work-study employee in the Dean of Agriculture’s office and who I reconnected with over Facebook. She’s a talented artist and an interesting political partisan, bringing a lot of spiciness to my News Feed. I appreciate that and I appreciate her friendship, so I thought it would be fun to treat her (and her mother) to this spicy apple pie.
Apple chai pie
2 cups apple juice
2 chai tea bags
2 pounds apples
1 medium lemon, juiced
1 tablespoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground ginger
¼ teaspoon ground cloves
¼ teaspoon ground cardamom
2 pinches (about 1/8 teaspoon) coarse
ground black pepper, or more to
taste
½ cup brown sugar
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 tablespoon maple syrup
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
¼ teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons cornstarch
2 whole wheat pie crusts (recipe below)
Heat apple juice until very warm but not boiling. Add chai tea bags, cover and let steep for 10 minutes. Discard tea bags.
Meanwhile, peel and chop apples, tossing them in a bowl with lemon juice to keep them from browning.
Combine cinnamon, ginger, cloves, cardamom and black pepper in a small bowl to make spice blend.
Combine apples, apple juice-chai tea blend, the spice blend, brown sugar, butter, maple syrup, vanilla extract and salt in a large pot. Cook over medium heat, stirring frequently, until the apples start to soften, about 30 minutes.
Transfer ¼ cup of the warm apple liquid from the pot to a small bowl. Add cornstarch and whisk until completely dissolved into the liquid and no clumps remain. Stir mixture back into the pot. Continue cooking over medium heat, stirring often, until the mixture starts to thicken, about 5 minutes. Pour the filling into a bowl and set aside to cool, about 1 hour.
While filling cools, preheat the oven to 425 degrees.
Line a 9-inch pie plate with one pie crust. Pour filling into the crust-lined pie plate. Cover the filling with the top crust. Vent the crust by cutting with a knife or pricking with a fork. If you want a shiny crust, gently brush with a beaten egg.
Bake for 45 minutes, checking occasionally to make sure the crust is not burning. If it begins to get too dark, cover loosely with aluminum foil. Allow to cool before eating. Pie is good warm but should not be hot when you eat it.
WHOLE WHEAT CRUST
1½ cups all-purpose flour
1 cup white whole wheat flour or
unbleached whole wheat flour
2 teaspoons salt
2 tablespoons sugar
¾ cup (1 ½ sticks) cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
¼ cup (4 tablespoons) cold vegetable
shortening
¼ cup (4 tablespoons) cold vodka
½ cup (8 tablespoons) cold water, plus
extra as needed
In a large bowl, stir together the flour, salt and sugar until everything is thoroughly combined. Add the butter and shortening and cut the mixture together using a pastry cutter until it forms small pea-size crumbs coated in flour.
Pour the vodka evenly over the dry ingredients, a few tablespoons at a time, using a rubber spatula to press the dough together. Add the water, a tablespoon or two at a time, and continue to press the dough together to form a large ball. If the dough doesn’t come together or seems dry, add a little extra ice water a tablespoon at a time until everything comes together easily. (Be careful to work the dough as little as possible; otherwise the crust may be tough.)
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