Wassail Christmas Pie

Would you believe me if I told you that this filling almost didn't make it to the pie? I came this close to eating it all out of the pan. Oh my goodness.


For this month's You Want Pie With That? event, Anne of Anne Strawberry chose the theme, Holiday Songs. Just match a pie to your favorite holiday song, that's all. Not any easy task for me, at any rate, because my taste in holiday songs is a bit eclectic. But, the other day, I had on one of my favorite Christmas CDs (Sing We Noel),


humming and singing away, when inspiration struck. Here I was, singing about Christmas Pie. Was there really such a thing? Inquiring minds . . . .

As is the case with many investigations, one follows the Rabbit Trail. My song is called The Gloucestershire Wassail Song, and the verse is as follows --

And here is to Dobbin and to his right eye,
Pray God send our master a good Christmas pie,
And a good Christmas pie that we may all see;
With our wassailing bowl we'll drink to thee.

What's in wassail, you ask?

All sorts of delicious goodies -- apples, cranberries, oranges, lemons, spices. Why, that just might make a decent pie.

And so it did.


As best as I can recall, the recipe went something like this:

2 pounds of apples, peeled and sliced (I used Braeburns)
1 cup or so of fresh cranberries (it was approximate)
1 ounce of butter
3 ounces of sugar

2 ounces of water
1 ounce of cornstarch

3.5 ounces of sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon cloves
2 teaspoons orange zest
2 teaspoons lemon zest
2 teaspoons lemon juice
.25 ounce of butter

Saute the apples and cranberries in the 1 ounce of butter until slightly softened. Add the 3 ounces of sugar while the fruit is cooking.

Mix the water and cornstarch together until smooth. Add to the hot fruit mixture and cook until the liquid is thick and clear. Remove from heat.

Add the remaining ingredients, stirring gently until the sugar is dissolved and the butter is melted.

Cool completely.

Fill either a pie shell or make a rustic/country-style pie, like a crostada. Dot with extra butter if desired. Bake at 425 degrees F (220 degrees C) until golden, about 30-40 minutes. Be sure and bake it on a parchment lined sheet pan so the juices don't spill into the oven.

Try to let cool before eating. (I dare you.)



So, this Wassail Christmas Pie is my entry for this month's You Want Pies With That? I bet there will be many other delicious pies showing up in the next few days!


And if you are interested, here are the verses to the Gloucestershire Wassail Song.

1. Wassail! wassail! all over the town,
Our toast it is white and our ale it is brown;
Our bowl it is made of the white maple tree;
With the wassailing bowl, we'll drink to thee.

2. Here's to our horse, and to his right ear,
God send our master a happy new year:
A happy new year as e'er he did see,
With my wassailing bowl I drink to thee.

3. So here is to Cherry and to his right cheek
Pray God send our master a good piece of beef
And a good piece of beef that may we all see
With the wassailing bowl, we'll drink to thee.

4. And here is to Dobbin and to his right eye,
Pray God send our master a good Christmas pie,
And a good Christmas pie that we may all see;
With our wassailing bowl we'll drink to thee.

5. So here is to Broad Mary and to her broad horn
May God send our master a good crop of corn
And a good crop of corn that may we all see
With the wassailing bowl, we'll drink to thee.

6. And here is to Fillpail and to her left ear
Pray God send our master a happy New Year
And a happy New Year as e'er he did see
With the wassailing bowl, we'll drink to thee.

7. Here's to our cow, and to her long tail,
God send our master us never may fail
Of a cup of good beer. I pray you draw near,
And our jolly wassail it's then you shall hear.

8. Come butler, come fill us a bowl of the best
Then we hope that your soul in heaven may rest
But if you do draw us a bowl of the small
Then down shall go butler, bowl and all.

9. Be here any maids? I suppose here be some;
Sure they will not let young men stand on the cold stone!
Sing hey O, maids! come trole back the pin,
And the fairest maid in the house let us all in.

10. Then here's to the maid in the lily white smock
Who tripped to the door and slipped back the lock
Who tripped to the door and pulled back the pin
For to let these jolly wassailers in.