I hadn’t meant to bake. I really hadn’t. But the apples on the counter were going soft in that way that starts to feel personal.
It was grey outside, the kind of day where everything feels damp—socks, thoughts, memory. I couldn’t tell if I was bored or lonely, and honestly, it didn’t matter.
Mae had said, weeks ago, “You know what I miss? Apple crisp.”
And I’d said, “You’re a grown woman. Make one.”
She didn’t. Of course she didn’t.
So I did. Martha’s version. Because she doesn’t mess around. Because when I want structure without strictness, I go to her.
What the Original Looked Like
Her Highness delivers the classic. Not the kind of crisp that’s fussy with spices or wild with add-ins. Just flour, oats, cold butter, sugar. Apples tossed in cinnamon and lemon like you’re trying to remember your grandmother’s version.
The topping chills in the freezer while the apples soak up the lemon. You layer it, bake it until it bubbles and browns.
It smells like you remembered something good. Or tried to.
No caramel, no nuts. No distractions. Just fruit, sugar, warmth.
It’s the kind of dessert that listens.
What I Did Differently (Unapologetically)
Used salted butter because that’s what I had. Didn’t feel bad. It balanced the sweetness, actually.
I didn’t peel all the apples. Got tired halfway through. The skin gave a little chew and color. Didn’t ruin a thing.
Also, I didn’t use Empire or Gala. Mine were just bruised and bought-too-many. I think they were Honeycrisps and one lonely Granny Smith. They worked.
The Way It Happened in My Kitchen
The flour and sugar clumped in my cold mixing bowl while the butter refused to soften, and I didn’t blame it. I used my hands after trying the pastry cutter. They worked better anyway.
The apples browned faster than I expected, but I tossed them in lemon and watched them come back to life. Cinnamon bloomed. I licked it off my finger. It was sharp.
The oven hummed while it baked.
Mae came down the stairs when it had ten minutes left. Said, “Smells like Sunday.”
I said, “It’s Wednesday.”
She shrugged. “Close enough.”
What I Learned (Standing in the Oven Light)
Some things aren’t meant to be pretty or perfect.
Some things are just meant to be warm, and waiting, and slightly too sweet.
What Happened After
Mae spooned hers into a bowl and topped it with cold cream straight from the carton. I didn’t stop her.
We didn’t talk much. But we stayed in the kitchen while the dish cooled.
That was enough.
Would I Make It Again?
Yes. Any time the house feels too quiet and the apples start to soften into a question.
That’s What I Remember
Steam. Soft crunch. And her saying, “Thanks,” like she meant it.
Why I’ll Make Martha’s Apple Crisp Every Time I Need the House to Smell Like a Hug
Why I Left the Apple Skins On
Because I didn’t have the energy to peel them all.
Because I don’t think food should require perfection to be good.
Because the crisp still came out tender and rich, with just enough chew to remind me I was here for it.
FAQs
yeah, but it softens a bit. freeze it after baking, then reheat gently. the topping won’t be as crisp, but the flavor hangs on like it means it.
whatever you’ve got. seriously. mix them if you can—sweet and tart together make it taste more like memory than math.
you can. it won’t be the same kind of crisp, but it’ll still work. sub extra flour or some crushed crackers if you want that golden crumble.
yes. just a bit. it wakes up the apples like light through a kitchen window. not tart—just bright.
nope. i didn’t. the skins soften while baking and add a little texture. leave them if you’re tired or just not in the mood to fuss.
Check out More Recipes
- Martha Stewart Easy Waffle Recipe
- Martha Stewart Deviled Eggs
- Martha Stewart Carrot Cake
- Martha Stewart Mashed Potatoes
Martha Stewart Apple Crisp
Description
Soft, spiced, not too precious. The kind of dessert that forgives you for eating it with a spoon.
Ingredients
Instructions
- Preheat the Oven: Set it to 375°F (190°C). Let it warm while your hands remember how to work with butter.
- Make the Topping: In a big bowl, mix flour, brown sugar, salt, and 2 tbsp granulated sugar. Add the butter and press it through with your fingers until you’ve got chunky crumbles. Stir in the oats. Freeze it while you work on the apples.
- Prepare the Apples: Toss the chunks with lemon juice, cinnamon, and the rest of the granulated sugar. Use your hands if you want. It’s fine to smell like fruit.
- Assemble and Bake: Spread the apples into a shallow 2-quart dish. Top evenly with the chilled crumble. Place on a baking sheet in case it bubbles over. Bake for 55–65 minutes, until the top is golden and the edges hiss.
- Cool and Serve: Let it sit for 10 minutes so the juices settle. Then serve warm. With cream, with nothing, with someone, or alone.