A pie you can't make

Tasted better than it looked, at least in the photos. That's the trouble with shooting with no natural light. Between the white meringue and the black plate there was just no way this photo was going to turn out. But a fine pie, indeed. Too bad you can't make it. Well, I guess you could, but I'd have to redo the recipe and convert the metric measurements to US. Not gonna happen.

It was a grapefruit meringue pie, but the best part wasn't the grapefruit custard (although that was nothing to sneeze at), nor was it the beautiful pile of meringue injudiciously piled on top. It was the crust that really made the pie. Think of a brown butter shortbread flecked with vanilla grains. This is why we keep extra butter in the freezer. If the American Dream could be a pie crust, this is it.

If this post really kills you and you'd like to make the pie, leave a comment, but I recommend you take an old lemon meringue pie recipe, substitute grapefruit juice for the lemon, and make a pate sucree, adding vanilla grains from a vanilla bean OR vanilla paste. Sorry to be so withholding, but I shouldn't make this recipe again for a while.

it's too hot to cook...let's bake a pie!

I love kitchens. I work in one, and most nights, after work, I play in another one. But the funny thing about kitchens, industrial or otherwise--they're really, really hot. Yeah, hot as in sexy, but also hot as in sticky, sweaty, humid, nasty, and generally not a place you want to be when the heat wave hits. But then, there are all those luscious summer berries. For the most part, they're good on their own or with whipped cream or something innocuous and fluffy like that. After all, why obscure the pure tastes of summer in doughs and creams and other such frippery?

However, that said, after your hundredth handful of the little beasts, the palate tends to tire, requiring more drastic measures. Particularly in the case of wild blackberries, which are best in preserves and pies anyways, leaning towards the sour side and often being more seed than flesh. Hence, the best berry pie. Unpretentious, unassuming, simple. Blissfully simple. You will have to turn on the oven, but after your sweat and toil you will be glad you did, for the pie is perfect.

Best Berry Pie

1 lb fresh or frozen blackberries (or any other berry you have in abundance)

Granulated sugar or sucanat, to taste

Juice and zest of 1/2 lemon

Handful candied ginger, chopped

Pinch salt

3 T. unsalted butter

2 T. cornstarch, potato starch, or arrowroot powder

1 T. melted butter, for brushing
1 T. turbinado sugar, for sprinkling

Crust (From Ad Hoc at Home):
2 1/2 c. all-purpose flour
1 1/4 t. salt
2 1/2 sticks unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch pieces and chilled
about 5 T. ice water

1.) Make the crust: Combine flour and salt in a large bowl. Add butter and toss. With your hands or a pastry blender, work the butter into the flour until the butter pieces are no larger than peas. Drizzle the water over the top and mix the dough until it just holds together. Knead the dough until it is completely smooth and the butter is incorporated. Divide the dough in half, with one piece slightly larger than the other. Shape each half into a 1-inch thick disc, wrap in plastic wrap, and refrigerate at least one hour, or up to a day.

2.)Combine blackberries (if they are very juicy, as my frozen and thawed blackberries were, you may want to drain them a little, but I left mine very juicy and, while the pie was swimming in blackberry juice--not a bad thing--that just meant more juice for ice cream topping; and this crust is a miracle: it not only held up to the liquid, but it held up for DAYS), sugar, lemon zest and juice, ginger, and salt in a bowl. Mix until combined.

3.) Take the larger disc of dough from the fridge and dust your work surface lightly with flour. Roll it into a 13-14 inch round, about 1/8 inch thick. Roll outward from the center, rotating the dough frequently and reflouring your work surface if needed to prevent sticking. Transfer the dough to a 9-10 inch pie plate, easing the dough up the sides. Roll out the second disc in a similar manner and place on a baking sheet. Refrigerate both crusts 15 minutes. This allows the gluten in the dough to relax so that the crust doesn't shrink while baking.

4.) Preheat the oven to 375. Fill your pie crust with blackberry filling and dot with the 3 T. butter, cut into small pieces, and sprinkle with the starch of your choice. With your second piece of dough--the top--you can do something decorative and precious before covering the filling with it. Or you can just plop it on top and put some slits in it to let the steam out. Crimp the edges to seal the top crust to the bottom crust.

5.) Brush the dough with melted butter and sprinkle with the turbinado sugar. Bake for 50 minutes to an hour and 15 minutes, rotating halfway through. If you have a stupid oven like me, you may need to turn the broiler on for a quick minute to get the sugar on top to brown. After all, this is the point of the butter and sugar. As you can see, mine browned unevenly, but that's part of the homey appeal of this pie.

6.) Allow to cool almost completely. It tastes better when it's not scalding hot. Trust me. I know you're dying to burn your tongue and esophagus eating this, but you'll thank me if you wait.

Note: All ingredients in the filling are TO TASTE. Taste it, for heaven's sake, and if it's not sweet enough, add sugar. If you like an abnormal amount of ginger, add more. If it's not tart enough, squeeze some more lemon juice in there. This is your pie. Make it how you like it.

apple tart and possible incarnations

i love cookbooks. i've been building up a collection for some time now and have no illusions of stopping. an unapologetic book fetishist with a penchant for impossible recipes and elaborate food porn. i have an impressive collection of recipes cut from old issues of gourmet and bon appetit, in no appreciable order, with no apparent function apart from offering me amusement from time to time as i sift through what i once thought i might make.

in spite of this, i rarely follow a recipe. i don't mean that i take a recipe and modify it. i mean, i see what ingredients i have on hand (or that i can get at market or after work at the grocery store) and i go with it. i keep a healthy supply of spices and dry goods on hand (not to mention good butter and homemade veggie broth) so that my whims are usually possible. this sort of freedom from the recipe is thrilling and liberating. recipes are great inspiration, and for things like brownies and breads, recipes are pretty much must-haves (although i'm working on learning proportions--more on that later), but for everyday cooking, i find them cumbersome and restrictive. better to throw some things in a pan and hope for the best (although good judgment helps too).

this impromptu apple tart is an example of this manner of cookery. an instance of effective kitchen witchcraft.

Crust:

whole wheat pastry flour (1 1/2 cups)

lots of Amish butter (the equivalent of one stick, possibly a little less)

demerara sugar (1 1/2 T)

salt (pinch)

just enough ice water to make it come together into a blissful ball of butter-studded dough

refrigerate about 30 min. or, better yet, make the dough right before you eat your meal with the intention of throwing the tart together afterwards. the most important directive i can give you is to make this tart right before you eat it. don't get me wrong--you will enjoy the leftovers (ha) thoroughly, but you will want to eat this just out of the oven.

Topping:

slice a couple apples really thin (honeycrisp or gala or pink lady--something juicy and sexy and pink), place all artsy-like over the rolled out crust (free-form and rustic is better; who needs symmetry anyways?), drizzle some raw honey over the apples (no need for overkill--the apples should be sweet enough on their own to need little embellishment), finely grate the oldest gouda you can find (mine was 5 years old--a precocious thing just about ready for kindergarten) sparingly over the top (if cheese were an accessory, you'd want it to be a nice, lacy shawl, not a flannel cape). bake until the apples start to get a little brown at the edges and the crust is minimally done (guess: 15-20 minutes at 350).

most of all, use your common sense and do what feel right and smells right to you. basil and sage are good on this sort of tart, but lemon balm and rosemary are too. or you can be a total purist and go for the honey-lavender combo, which is so enticing this time of year. make a glaze of honey and calvados (or a fruit liqueur or brandy or...). basically, this tart is the vehicle for glory. eat slowly with a glass of rose (accent the final e) and think of all the gloriously warm days to come.

**note: my recipes are templates, vessels, vehicles. you will want to use your common sense, and please experiment.