A Commonplace Book of Pie (4 page)

“Science means simply the aggregate of all the recipes that are always successful. All the rest is literature.”

− Paul Valery

 

Best. Trust the tap and freezer to provide the most effective binding agents at the right price. Fill a spouted cup with water and ice, freeze it while you make the fat-flour, and dribble it over the mixture. I listen to my wrist when I'm pouring. Don't ask me for tablespoons. They are beyond my ability.

Exists. Pork pies and occasional grandmothers require it. I don't understand how it works. The object of the ice water is to preserve fat chunks. Boiling water melts them to slurry. I include this method only to inform you that it is an option, especially if you want to be old-fashioned, British, or contrary.

Works best if you keep a fifth in the freezer at all times. Part of pie's charm is its economy—when you can, at any home-moment, make the split decision to pie-bake. This requires the constant presence of all ingredients in the home. I don't know about you, but in my house a bottle of vodka doesn't last long.

If you've been using all-butter or a butter-Crisco combo in your crusts, try lard immediately. Your dough will bake into ethereal joy.

Unsalted is best. Good quality is recommended—European butter has a lower water content. That is to say, there's more butter in their butter.

Don't think about it. I mean, use it (angelic flakes, long shelf life, cheap) but don't think about what you're doing to your trans-fats levels. When it stubbornly resists detaching from a spoon, even under hot water, don't think about the dark of your arteries. When it leaves a translucent greasy residue not unlike vaseline, don't think about what veins truck to your heart. On the bright side, it's vegetarian and—according to Industrial Revolution-era ads—pure as light.

King Arthur brand is best. Remember to stir the bag before scooping the cup to aerate packed flour.

Use a light touch, go by feel. For more help, see the following recipe.

Key, but not to be overestimated. Fat should stay chilled but not frozen so that, when rubbed into flour, it retains its form. Butter chunks become marbling when the dough is rolled. Marbling becomes flakes when the pie bakes. Freezing the fat will make it too hard.

Chilled water helps fat stay cool as it turns into dough. Frozen water is ice, which won't make dough at all.

Fussy bakers would tell you to refrigerate dry ingredients. As a general rule, I disagree with fussiness.

If you are new to pie-making, if the dough is too delicate or dry, if the dough is old or defrosted (which tends to dry it out), roll the dough on wax paper. Place a large sheet on a flat surface, sprinkle flour in a wide circle, and roll the dough to ⅛ inch thickness. It may sneak over the sides of the paper. That is okay. To place a bottom crust in a pie plate, flip it over, center it, and peel off the wax paper at a sharp angle. A wide angle will tear the dough. To place a top crust on a pie, flip it over, center it on the filling, and peel off the wax paper at a sharp angle.

My preferred method. Saves paper, time, and requires a little courage. To roll out dough on a counter, sprinkle flour liberally on a flat surface, place the dough disc in the middle of the flour patch, hit it squarely with the rolling pin a few times to flatten it a little, and commence rolling. Every couple rolls, slide a pastry scraper underneath the dough and rotate it slightly to ensure that the dough won't stick. When it is 6 to 8 inches wide, flip the entire thing over and roll it out on that side. Continue to slide and unstick with the pastry scraper until the dough is too thin and large to move without tearing it. At that point, continue rolling without the help of the pastry scraper until the dough is ⅛ inch thick.

To transfer the dough into a pie pan, slide the pastry scraper underneath the sides of the dough, then firmly and swiftly lift it by one edge and fold the circle in half. Using the pastry scraper, fold the half in half so that the crust is in quarter-folds. Lift the folded dough into the plate (I use the pastry scraper for this too), placing the triangular point in the center of the plate. With your hands, firmly and swiftly unfold the dough so it drapes evenly over the plate, gently tucking it into the bottom. Top crusts are even easier to place—just follow these instructions to drape the dough over the filling.

Trim edges 1 inch past the lip of the pie plate before folding them under. Failure to do so may result in par-baked, too-thick pie crust.

Cold hands, warm heart.

It's okay. As long as they aren't sweaty. If they are, use flour as a gymnast would use chalk.

The oven will heal all.

 

 

As taught to the author by a wise baker. Makes dough for one double crust pie.

2 ½ cups of flour

1 tablespoon sugar

1 teaspoon salt

8 tablespoons lard

8 tablespoons butter

ice water

To learn how to make pie, observe pie makers and imitate the methods that seem most graceful, grace being the sort of efficiency that hides its usefulness with beauty. My mother's panicked flip of rolled-out dough into the plate, for example, I abandoned long ago, though I'll never relinquish the nostalgia of her conviction that when it came to pastry, anything could go wrong at any time. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Start with water.

It must be clean. It must be icy. Freeze about a cup and a half in a spouted liquid measure while you prepare the rest of the recipe.

When it comes to pie, our hands are our best tools. We are not woodworkers; we do not need hammers and saws. We are not accountants; math will tell us how many servings, not how to make or serve them. We are pianists. Cut your nails, and if you paint them, make sure the varnish doesn't flake off and disappear into your dough.

In a large metal bowl, mix flour, salt, and sugar. Cut tablespoon-sized chunks of butter and lard and drop them into the flour. Toss the fat with the flour to evenly distribute it.

Position your hands palms up, fingers loosely curled, the same way you relax your hand above your head while falling asleep. Scoop up flour and fat and rub it between your thumb and fingers, letting it fall back into the bowl after rubbing it. Do this, reaching into the bottom and around the sides to incorporate all flour into fat until the mixture is slightly yellow, slightly damp. The mixture should be chunky—mostly pea sized with some almonds and walnuts. The smaller bits should resemble coarse damp sand.

Get the water. Pour it in a steady thin stream around the bowl for about ten seconds. Toss to distribute the moisture. You'll probably need to pour more water and toss again. As the dough gets close to perfection, it will become a bit shaggy and slightly tacky to the touch. Press a small bit of the mixture together and toss it gently in the air. If it breaks apart, add more water, toss to distribute moisture, and test again. If the dough ball keeps its shape, it's done.

Gather the dough in two balls with firm, brief pressure. Quickly mold the dough into thick discs using your palms and thumbs. Wrap the dough in plastic. Refrigerate for an hour to three days before rolling.

Remember that patience requires virtue, but pie only requires patience.

 

Fruit pie filling has five essential ingredients: fruit, sugar, salt, spice, and thickener.

Fruit.
Of all our materials, fruit is the most variable. Consider season, consider color, consider ripeness and scent. Consider sweetness, tartness, and texture. Consider pectin. Choose the best fruit. Always. Know how to tell a blue nub of paste from a blueberry, a ball of sand from an apple, a rock from a peach.

Sugar.
Unless baking for children, go easy on the sugar. You'll figure out how much you need by pouring on a ½ cup, tasting, pouring on another ¼ cup, tasting, and so on. The sweeter the fruit, the less sugar you'll need. Try using brown and white sugar combinations, or honey, or maple syrup. Again, go by taste. The most sugar I ever use is 1¼ cup for rhubarb pie. The least is ½ cup, for a maple blueberry pie. I use ¾ cup for just about everything else.

Salt.
Just a pinch. One for every pie.

Spice.
Go easy on it. Many recipes call for a stiff dose of cinnamon and nutmeg, perhaps because they have assumed that you bought bad fruit. You did not. You bought good fruit. Don't over-spice it. A pinch of nutmeg is often all you need.

Many fillings benefit from the juice of half a lemon. Citrus clarifies sweet and prevents fruit from browning. This is true for stone fruits, berries, apples, and pears especially. Some fillings benefit from vanilla or almond extract. Try ½ to 1 teaspoon to see how you like it.

After adding sugar, salt, and spice to your pie filling, taste it. Do you need more lemon? Do you need more salt? More sugar? More spice? Add at will, but slowly, tasting as you go. Once your filling tastes exactly as you like it, add thickener.

Thickener.
Specifically flour, butter, and pectin. Pectin is a natural thickener that reduces the need for flour. When present, beware gummy pie. When absent, beware soupy pie. Compensate accordingly with 2-8 tablespoons of flour.

Quince, apples, and pears have a lot of natural pectin. Quince has the most; pears the least. Pies made with these fruits or a mixture of them need only 2-3 tablespoons of flour and 2 tablespoons of butter cut into small chunks and scattered on top of the filling before you put the top crust on. Grated apples can be used to firm up low-pectin fruits like berries. Sour cherries can have a lot of pectin too. They need about 5 tablespoons of flour.

Berries and stone fruit have very low pectin content. That's why berry and peach pies have a bad habit of turning into fruit soup. Thicken those fillings with 5-8 tablespoons of flour. If the fruit is fresh and not too juicy, I'll use 5 tablespoons. If it's very juicy, 6-8 tablespoons.

Wheat flour, tapioca flour, and cornstarch are all acceptable thickeners. My favorite is tapioca flour. It forms a thick but not jammy sauce that stays bright after cooking and is completely tasteless. Flour can sometimes lighten the sauce in strange ways, and sometimes you can taste it, but it is a dependable thickener. Cornstarch I can often taste, so I rarely use it.

Once you've added thickener, stir it gently into the fruit and mound the filling in a pie shell. If you're using wheat flour, dot the filling with 2-3 tablespoons' worth of butter chunks. If you're using tapioca flour or cornstarch, no extra butter is necessary.

Place the top crust over all, trim excess dough, crimp the edge, cut vents, and place the whole thing in the refrigerator or freezer to chill while your oven heats.

Start the pie at 425 degrees. Right before placing the pie in the oven, brush the top crust (but not the edge) with milk or an egg white wash and sprinkle sugar over all.

Bake on 425 for 10 to 15 minutes. When the crust is blond and blistered, turn the oven down to 375 degrees. Bake for another 40 to 50 minutes. Most pies need 55-60 minutes to bake fully, longer if you've used frozen fruit. You'll know the pie is done when the top crust is golden brown and the juices bubble slowly at the edge. The juices should look viscous—but just at the edge! If they do not look viscous or they're boiling briskly, or if both of these things are true, put the pie back in. Check on it in five minutes.

Cool the pie on a wire rack so air can circulate to the bottom crust.

Some people believe in hot pie. They don't care if the filling sets up, so they cut a piece right away. The rest of us wait for an hour or two—an ingenious way to force family time—before cutting the first slice.

 

As American as what? In colonial times, apple pie was the harried housewife's peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Children and apples were plentiful; pastry is tastier than uninvented tupperware; and pie is still the only food that holds itself.

1 double crust pie dough recipe

5 Gravenstein apples (or 2 McIntosh and 3 Granny Smith)

1 almost-ripe Bartlett pear

¾ cup mild honey (better quality is better)

juice of half a lemon (about one tablespoon)

½ teaspoon cinnamon

big pinch nutmeg

pinch salt

3 tablespoons flour

2 tablespoons chilled unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

1 egg white

1 teaspoon water

demerara sugar

Make the dough and refrigerate it for at least an hour, or overnight. Roll out the bottom crust and place it in a 9 or 10-inch pie plate. Tuck the crust into the plate and trim the edges, then refrigerate it while you prepare the rest of the pie. Preheat the oven to 425 degrees.