The Forgotten Apple Pie of New England
A few days ago I was searching my collection of cookbooks for a new apple pie recipe to make for my wife, since it’s her absolute favorite fruit pie. In fact, it’s just about the only kind of pie she’ll eat. My search brought me to one from a vintage early-1900s cookbook that really piqued my interest—Marlborough Pie—because it called for overripe, near spoiled apples. My first thought was, why would anyone want to eat something made with spoiled fruit? So I decided to dig a little deeper into this unusual pie.
This historic dessert began in England as a custard pudding made with apples. The earliest known version appeared in the 1660s British cookbook, The Accomplish Cook by Robert May, a French-trained English chef:
“A made Dish of Butter and eggs.
Take the yolks of twenty-four eggs, and strain them with cinamon, sugar, and salt; then put melted butter to them, some fine minced pippins, and minced citron. Put it on your dish of paste, and put slices of citron round about it, bar it with puff paste, and the bottom also, or short paste in the bottom.”
It’s worth noting that flavorings like sherry, lemons, and nutmeg had made their way to England by the mid-1600s through expanding trade with Asia, Spain, and Mediterranean countries.
When English colonists came to America, they brought many of their recipes with them, including apple custard pudding. A large number of these settlers made their homes in what is now Massachusetts, where apple trees flourished. Apples became one of the most abundant fruits in New England. But without refrigeration, harvested apples often lingered in storage for months, eventually becoming bruised, mealy, or even worm-riddled. Rather than let precious fruit go to waste, these damaged apples were peeled, crushed, and strained for use in puddings and pies like Marlborough.
No one seems to agree on how the dish came to be called “Marlborough.” Some believe it was named after the market town of Marlborough in Wiltshire, about 75 miles west of London. Others point to the village of Marlborough in Devon, England. Still others think it was named after Thomas of Marlborough—a medieval monk— or after John Churchill, the First Duke of Marlborough. One thing is for certain: it was not named after Marlborough Street in Boston, which didn’t exist in the 1600s.
Adding to the confusion, the pie has also gone by other names, including Deerfield Pie and Deerfield Marlborough Pie. Versions of the Deerfield Pie often includes more apple, a touch of grated lemon peel, and omit the nutmeg found in other recipes.
The first known American publication of the Marlborough Pie recipe appeared in American Cookery by Amelia Simmons in 1796—the first cookbook written by an American and published in the United States:
“Take 12 spoons of stewed apples, 12 of wine, 12 of sugar, 12 of melted butter and 12 of beaten eggs, a little cream, spice to your taste; lay in paste No. 3, in a deep dish; bake one hour and a quarter.”
By the late 19th century, Marlborough Pie—along with cranberry, mincemeat, and pumpkin—had become a staple of Thanksgiving celebrations throughout New England.
Today, Marlborough Pie is all but forgotten, save a few home bakers who enjoy reviving old recipes and the living history museum Old Sturbridge Village in Massachusetts, where it occasionally appears on period menus. So what happened to this once popular and distinctive dessert?
Perhaps it’s because advances in cold storage and commercial distribution made the use of bruised or overripe apples unnecessary. Or maybe it was the labor-intensive process of making the custard filling that turned home cooks toward simpler pies. It’s also possible that the growing influence of the temperance movement in the 19th and early 20th centuries discouraged the use of wine and sherry in household recipes. Or maybe it simply fell out of fashion, replaced by more modern, 
more familiar versions of apple pie—as has happened to many historic foods.
My guess is that it was a combination of all these things, and perhaps more, that led to the decline of this creamy, sweet pie with its tangy lemon overtone and warm blend of sherry and spice.
