Sleep Potions in Addition to Help from a Little Friend to Bake an Apple Pie

The potions sort of help, spending a day baking with even an imaginary friend works better.

(Two people who proofread this story were a little taken aback by the appearance of a grown woman hanging out with what they took to be a small plush doll. Such as this note of concern: “did you really have a conversation with a little stuffed Tiny Chef? I'm seriously starting to fear for your sanity.” Well, of course, that’s always on the table. Add to that how our difficult world just got even more harrowing, giving us additional reasons to lose sleep! So, yes, the Tiny Chef and I spent the day laughing it up together. If you have never met, may I introduce him to you now. You will want to hang around with him, too! ~ Enjoy!)

The Tiny Chef popped by just in time to help me figure out how to make the too-short edges of my apple pie’s bottom crust meet the top crust so they’d seal properly. I guess I didn’t roll it enough, or maybe I just didn’t have enough dough to start with. The big problem was the apples were already in the crust, so I couldn’t take them out without risking one very soggy bottom that would be impossible to roll again.

We decided to try tucking the edges of the top crust a little underneath the bottom crust. We wouldn’t be able to make the kind of fancy rim that would probably be expected of someone who’s supposed to know her way around a pie crust. But the Tiny Chef, always an optimist and a caring soul, assured me everything would be ok.

The Tiny Chef giving the pie after its egg wash one more lookover.

After I placed the pie in the oven and we cleaned ourselves up, I told him the story about how the expert PR woman at the publishing house that printed my first book got me a gig on The Food Channel even though I warned her I never made a glamours food media-worthy pie in my life. She said, “Oh, don’t worry, you can do it!” Well, there I was live on camera with two famous chefs and bumbling through the worst-looking pie that food audiences had ever seen. The two flummoxed chefs hurried me off camera and then awkwardly filled the leftover minutes with some song and dance involving a whisk. The Tiny Chef had a belly laugh picturing that one. But, honestly, it was sort of fun showing viewers that outward beauty should never be the end game in the kitchen. Flavor and companionship are always upmost, sitting down and enjoying what you made by hand the better reward.

The Tiny Chef actually bakes a pretty perfect apple pie himself. Still, he patted my hand and reminded me that my pie was a midnight pie, not a company pie.

(I didn’t tell the Tiny Chef that I thoroughly disagree with him about cooking the apples before placing them in the crust. I’m sorry, but they make them too mushy for my taste [see Tuesday’s story for further discussion on this matter].)

We cut into the pie around 11 p.m. and warmed it up, pouring the necessary brandy cream around it. Together, we ate it while, one by one, the neighborhood houses grew dark. I insisted the Tiny Chef stay over and tucked him in. We both slept like hibernating bears!

Shhhiiiissssssh!

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As promised, some old remedies for sleeplessness.

To provoke sleep

From The English Huswife, by Gervase Markham, 1615

This may be hard to make since the recipe calls for breast milk. The milk was considered to have a soothing power since observation concluded that it coaxed infants to sleep. It would also be lauded if provided by a peasant wet nurse of good and sober character . The recipe is presented as it was written with 17th century spelling and convoluted sentences.

But if any of the family be troubled with too much watchfulness, so that they cannot by any means take rest, then to provoke the party to sleep, you shall take of saffron a dram dried, and beaten to powder, and as much lettuce seed also dried, and beaten to powder, and twice as much white poppy seed beaten also to powder, and mix these with woman’s milk till it be a thick salve, and then bind it to the temples of the head and it will soon cause the party to sleep; and let it lie on not above four hours.

Tapioca Jelly

From Food and Cookery for the Sick and Convalescent, by Fannie Merritt Farmer, 1904

The jelly’s warmth, with its glass or two) of sherry is a welcome comfort in the nigh.

2 tablespoons pearl tapioca

1/2 cup cold water

1/3 cup boiling water

1 1/2 tablespoons lemon juice

Sherry

Soak tapioca in cold water for several hours or overnight; add to boiling water, stir in the lemon juice and cook in a double boiler for two hours. Serve hot with cream, sherry, and powdered sugar [probably swingled over the jelly].

Wine Pudding

From How to Cook for the Sick, by Helena V. Sachse, 1910

Often served at my house as dessert for dinner guests to send them home content and sleepy.

1 tablespoon sherry wine

2 tablespoons sugar

1 cup water

1 1/2 tablespoon cornstarch

1 egg, separated, the whites beaten until they’re stiff

Add the sherry and the sugar to the water and bring to a boil, then add the cornstarch (which has been moistened with a little cold water). Stir until it thickens. Beat the egg yolk until light, add to the pudding, and stir over the fire a few minutes (but do not allow it to boil). Remove from the fire and pour slowly into the well-beaten egg white, beating all the while. Serve cold.

Cocoa Cordial

Another from Food and Cookery for the Sick and Convalescent, by Fannie Merritt Farmer, 1904

This final one is useful not only for bedtime but when the demands of the world are all too great. This often occurs in the blue hours, that time when the day fades into the blue of the descending night..

1 teaspoon Dutch process cocoa

1 teaspoon sugar

1/2 cup water

1 1/2 to 3 tablespoons best-quality port wine (depending on the state of your nerves)

Mix together the cocoa and sugar in a small bowl. Bring the water to a boil and add just enough to the cocoa and sugar to form a paste. Stir in the remaining water and bring to a bowl for 1 minutes. Remove from heat and pour into a mug. Add port wine. Find a quiet place where you can stretch out undisturbed and sip slowly.