Monday, November 15, 2010

Pie Crust: It Is Easy to Fear That Which We Do Not Understand

I am a big fan of Crisco when it comes to pie crust. My best pie crusts always have Crisco in them. I rarely measure anything ever (I don't even own measuring spoons. True story. Come to my house and try to find some. You won't.), so to listen to me describe how I make perfect-every-time pie crust is pretty aggravating to the first-timer, I know. But it is not hard. My young daughters can make excellent pie crust, and so can you. My recipe makes two crusts actually. One for top and one for bottom. If you are making an open-faced pie, like pumpkin or pecan, just make two pies at once. Why not? You already have the oven heated and you are already flouring your entire kitchen. Go for the bonus round, I always say. Besides, I am not sure if I know how to tell you to make only one crust at a time.

I put a pinch of sea salt in the bottom of a big bowl, then I dump on what is probably about 2 cups or so of flour. I stir it all up with my fingers, then I start scooping in towering spoonfuls of Crisco. My guess is that I use about a third of a cup, but remember that a lot of environmental factors go into pastry -- humidity, heat, needy children, barking dogs, ringing doorbells, singing kettle, whatever -- and you need to be flexible. If you put too much fat in, add a small amount of flour to make it up, or vice versa. Trust me. Cooking should be intuitive.

The recipe books will tell you that you use a pastry cutter to incorporate the Crisco into the flour, or in the absence of a pastry cutter, two forks will do. Well, I don't own a pastry cutter, and while I do have forks, I just use my fingers to mix it up, which works best for me anyway because the heat softens the Crisco a little, making it easier to work with. You want a bowlful of clumpy flour, with the clumps about the size of green peas. Once you are there, drizzle in about 7 tablespoons of very cold water. Do you know how I measure the 7 tbs. of cold water? I go to my refrigerator, which is fancy enough to dispense cold water, and press on the button as I say, slowly and out loud, "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven." Works every time, I swear. Stir the entire mess together gently, making a nice, round ball of dough. The dough should stick together enough to form into a circle shape, but it will still be pretty floury, so stop worrying. Let the dough rest in the fridge, covered in some plastic wrap or a damp baker's cloth, for about a half hour. This allows those fats that melted a little under your hot little hands to set back up again, making it easier to roll out. Easier is better.

Sprinkle a healthy amount of flour on a large cutting board, or directly onto your counter top so long as you have a smooth, clean surface to work with. Get out your rolling pin. I have a heavy, marble rolling pin that my husband bought for me our second Christmas together. It's wonderful and I love it, but I have to keep a careful eye out to make sure it doesn't roll off my counter ever, because it weighs a ton and will crack the tile from that height, I'm sure. It's marble because marble stays cold and the fat solids in most any pastry dough like to stay cold, but honestly, it should not take you so long to roll out a couple of pie crusts that you need to worry about whether or not your rolling pin is cold.

Anyhoo, split your cold ball of dough into two cold balls of dough and set one aside. I like to form a circle on my cutting board, flattening it with my hands and shaping as I go. Then I start rolling from the center out, and turn my rolling pin several degrees at every pass, making a radius circle as I go. This helps keep your circle more even, but stop sweating because it doesn't need to be perfect. Once it is about three inches larger than your pie pan (and yes, I actually hold my pie pan over the disc of dough to eyeball it, and so can you.), carefully lift up your dough and fold it into a half circle (just makes it easier to pick, is all) and place it in your pan. Tuck it gently into the sides and there you have it -- pie crust! Repeat with your second ball of dough and presto whammo! Two pie crusts! Fill with something marvelous and bake.

Lemon Shaker Pie

Money is tight, so I do what I always do when I am stressed out over something. I turn to my cupboards and start rummaging around. I made a Lemon Shaker Pie yesterday. If you like lemons and you are not afraid of homemade pastry, then this is your pie. It's not for everyone, I will admit. John calls it my Lemon Pledge Pie and there is a touch of furniture-polish-citrusy-fresh taste about it, but I have always regarded the lemon as such a gorgeous, compact little fruit that is terribly underutilized. This recipe uses the entire fruit, and I like that.

First you need two largish lemons. If you only have teensy ones, you will need three or four. Should you be fortunate enough to own a mandolin (Martha Stewart's kitchen assistants totally have to borrow hers), dust it off and use it to shave a pile of paper-thin slices of lemon. If you don't (I don't), sharpen your best knife and do the best job you can, picking the seeds out as you go. Layer the slices in a bowl and cover with two full cups of sugar. As the fruit macerates, it will throw off a lot of fluid, so stir it all up every once in a while. Let it sit like this, covered and on your counter, for at least 24 hours, or even 48 hours if you have the extra time.

Beat four eggs with a pinch of salt and a fat teaspoon of cornstarch, then mix this into the syrupy, sugary, lemony goodness that your skinny slices have turned into. This is your pie filling. Take a moment to inhale deeply, because it smells wonderful. Set it aside and roll up your sleeves for some pastry work. I have a blog post on making pie crust, and we will pretend that you have read it and are now an expert in home pastry. Roll out two crusts, and place one of your crusts in a 9 inch pie pan. Pour in the filling and then cover it with the second crust. Cut off the excess crusts around the sides and pinch to seal the top and bottom crusts together. Cut a few slashes in the top crust so that it can breathe while it's in the oven. Bake your pie for about 45-55 minutes at 350F, until the top is nicely browned and your nose and eyes tell you it's ready. I always bake my pies on a baking sheet because, invariably, a little bit of the fluid bubbles out and all of a sudden, your whole house will smell like burnt sugar.

The pie needs to set up a little bit before you cut into it. Most pies do. Make a pot of piping hot tea to help cut the sweet tartness of the pie. It's wonderful served warm or cold. If you absolutely adore lemon curd, you will love this pie.