When I think about strawberry rhubarb pie I think about Katie Merrick. On an August afternoon, in the middle of Montana, Katie walked to her fridge, pulled out half a strawberry rhubarb pie, peeled back the aluminum foil from the pie tin, and offered around the pie dish to me, Tess, and Fiona, saying nothing (but with eyes wide with excitement). Planned pie (ie all of the pie in the pie project so far) is delicious. But surprise pie? Much more delicious. Pie is high on the list of things that are amazing cold, out of the fridge, not on the day they were made (this controversial list also includes pizza, cake, soup, many more - feel free to go crazy in the comments). I have some things to say about strawberry rhubarb - I knew it had to be part of the project due to its secured spot in the world of pie, I knew I wanted to pair it with corn meal, as the rustic-ness of rhubarb screams for a rustic companion, and I knew that I liked it. I thought, though, that it would be more interesting and enjoyable to hear from Katie herself on the subject. Below you will find Katie's comments when I asked her to talk about Strawberry Rhubarb Pie. "This is my very favorite pie. I love strawberry rhubarb pie because I love summertime, I love the flavors, and I love a good latticework crust. Summertime in Vermont is a short-lived season, and when strawberry picking yields enough berries to justify using so many of them in a pie, then summer in the 802 has arrived! Rhubarb is a fun plant (fruit? Vegetable? I’m sure Clare knows but honestly I do not) (Clare here - it is a vegetable) because it is a little frightening and mysterious… it grows readily in New England climate, but what have I ever used it for besides pie? Smoothie once but that was a mistake. Strawberry rhubarb pie was the first pie for which I ever made a homemade crust rather than buying a Pillsbury Dough premade crust, and for that it will always have a special place in my heart. I particularly love a latticework crust for strawberry rhubarb because it is such a ~moist~ pie, and of course because of pioneer woman vibes." - Katie Merrick I couldn't have said it better myself...rhubarb smoothie? big mistake. Rhubarb pie on a summer afternoon in Bozeman, Montana? Delicious surprise. Strawberry Rhubarb + Cornmeal Crust Pie
Yield: 1 pie | Total Time: 4 hours Ingredients For the crust: 1 round of sister pie dough + 1 round of cornmeal crust: 1 cup AP flour ⅔ cup cornmeal ¼ cup sugar 1 ½ tbsp baking powder ¼ tsp kosher salt 6 tbsps cold unsalted butter, cut into cubes ⅔ cup heavy cream For the filling: 2 cups rhubarb 2 cups strawberries 1 cup sugar 2 ½ tbsp cornstarch Directions For the crust - preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Roll out the sister pie dough with cornmeal instead of flour on your rolling ping. Parbake the bottom crust. Mix together the flour, cornmeal, sugar, baking powder and salt. Cut in the butter, and use the cream to bring the crust together. Pat into a disc and chill while you prepare the filling. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. For the filling, , trim and chop your rhubarb into 1/4-inch pieces. Chop the strawberries to a size you like. Mix the rhubarb, strawberry, sugar, and cornstarch together. Add this to the bottom crust. Roll out the top cornmeal crust and place it gently over the top. Bake at 375 for thirty minutes and then at 300 until the juices bubble. Let cool for a few hours before eating!
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This lemon meringue pie came to be due to a sequence of gifts. The first was Always Home, Alice Waters' daughter's memoir. Reading about a richly aesthetic life in Berkeley, surrounded by dinners cooked over fire and eaten outside in a mild California night had me craving one thing (pie). The second gift was a surprise subscription to NYTimes cooking. I complained to a friend how I had used up free trials with all of my emails and the next day opened up my inbox to find that my complaining had compelled my good, kind friend to gift me a subscription. There is a lesson from this story. I will let you, the reader, determine it. Anyway, reading about Chez Panisse in the early 2000s and hungrily cruising the colorful pages of NY Times's densely populated pages landed me on the Chez Panisse lemon meringue pie recipe. It would be irrepresentative of my life to talk about lemon meringue pie without mentioning Amelia Bedelia. She was one of my favorite literary characters as a child, always misunderstanding directions while having fun. One of my favorite lessons (beyond "complaining will lead you to receiving the thing you desire most") that I learned from Amelia is that you can be very bad at your job, but if you end up making a fabulous lemon meringue pie for your employer, you will be just fine. To honor Amelia's love of chaos, I decided to put a bit of rosemary in the crust. I loved it. The other people who ate the pie didn't notice it. This post has two pies because I really don't like lemon meringue pie. I respect it as a cultural icon. I love the whim of a mess of toasted meringue. I like the process of making custard (due to my love of ice cream). However, lemon is my favorite flavor and I often feel sad that the pie it is most connected to is lemon meringue. I made this second pie a week after the lemon meringue to remind myself exactly what I want out of a lemon pie. The base is whipped lemon (more a mousse than a custard) and the topping is simple whipped cream. To me, that is all a lemon dessert should be. A neutral dairy base with over the top lemon flavor. Maybe some rosemary in the crust. Chez Panisse Lemon Meringue Pie
Recipe from NYT Cooking Yield: 1 pie | Total Time: 4 hours Ingredients 1 Round of pie dough For the filling: 2 Meyer lemons 2 eggs 3 egg yolks 6 tbsp sugar 3 tbsp salted butter, cut in 3 pieces 3 tbsp unsalted butter, cut in 3 pieces For the meringue: 3 egg whites, at warm room temperature ¼ tsp cream of tartar 6 tbsp superfine sugar ½ tsp vanilla extract Directions For the filling, grate the zest from the lemons into a bowl; strain in the lemon juice. In a saucepan, beat the eggs, yolks and sugar until just mixed. Stir in the lemon mixture, then the six tablespoons of butter. Cook, stirring constantly, over low to medium heat, until the mixture comes together and thickens enough to coat a spoon. Remove from heat, allow to stand five minutes, then whisk briefly to smooth. Set aside. For the crust - preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Line the rolled out and briefly frozen shell with aluminum foil, weight with beans or pie weights and bake for 20 minutes, or until set and dry looking. Remove the weights and foil, turn the heat down to 350 and continue baking until shell is golden brown, about 12 to 15 minutes. Set aside and allow to cool slightly. Spread the prepared filling in the shell and bake for 10 to 15 minutes or until the filling is just set. Remove pie and turn oven to 375. For the meringue, beat the egg whites until frothy, add the cream of tartar and continue beating until rounded peaks form. Beat in sugar and vanilla. Spread the meringue over the filling, making sure it meets the edges of the crust to make a seal. Swirl in a design with a knife or spatula and bake for about 10 minutes, or until the meringue is lightly browned. Allow to cool completely, from one to two hours, but do not refrigerate. At the time, this pie was delicious because of the combination of rich tahini and chocolate with light and dainty mascarpone. To some, the pun in the name made it more delicious. To others, it didn't. Now, on April 13th, this pie seems delicious because it represents a time when a themed dinner (this particular themed meal was for an Oscar's watch party) with a group of friends was regular. The act of texting with Leslie (who was in charge of the meal's frisee salad on a Sunday morning and discussing vinaigrette options, or of asking August to switch out the guitar strings on our guitar during a commercial break, or performing my typical dance of impolitely begging everyone to leave because I "had to get up and go to work tomorrow" feels far, far away. The menu for the Oscars party was: Ford vs. Ferrari vs. Frisee salad paraSliters with Greta Gherkins relish Once Upon a Thyme in Hollywood Sliders Irishman Coffee Affogato and a mOscarpone pie It doesn't matter who won the Oscar pool! I guessed with my heart/aesthetic nature (for the more discrete categories) instead of my brain as I always do and I lost! The pie was wonderful. It is a decadent pie. If you abstractly like the idea of tahini in a pie, you will love this pie. If you know tahini and you hear the ingredients of this pie and think "no thanks, that sounds like a thick pie," you will not like this pie. If you don't have a stance on tahini, order some online and pick a side! Tahini, chocolate mousse, mOscarpone Pie
Yield: 1 pie | Total Time: a long afternoon Ingredients 1 Round of pie dough 1/2 cup tahini 12 oz semisweet chocolate, chopped 1 tsp vanilla extract Pinch of salt 3 cups cold heavy cream 1/4 cup sugar 1/2 cup mascarpone Chocolate shavings Directions I parbaked my pie crust, but I am not sure it was necessary. If you have time, bake your crust off a bit in the oven and let it cool. If not, alas! Spread the tahini along the crust. Melt the chocolate in your microwave (it is 2020 just do it! do it slowly), and add the vanilla and salt. Bring 1 cup of the cream to boil in a heavy, small saucepan. Mix cream and chocolate in a large bowl, whisking vigorously. In a separate bowl, beat 2 cups cream and sugar in to stiff peaks. Fold into chocolate mixture once chocolate mixture has cooled. Pour mousse on top of tahini and spread out elegantly. Chill until set, about 6 hours. Spread mascarpone on top of chilled pie, in a pattern of your choosing. Sprinkle chocolate shavings over the top. Include pun, even if not oscars season. |