I was going to write about all the pre-Thanksgiving cleaning and cooking (so that I don’t have to cook as much Thursday, and so that the place is presentable for guests). But while working in the kitchen my mind wandered and I had another topic to address.<\/p>\n
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Thanksgiving dinner means pie … or pies<\/em>, plural. Just pumpkin and a dense, no-top-crust apple this year. I am not one to use premade crusts, and I am not one to screw up crusts. For being able to make a perfect pie crust from scratch every time I have a former math professor to thank.<\/p>\n My sophomore year of college I took a non-credit pie and bread baking “course” with a half-dozen other math nerds once a week at this professor’s house. He and his partner had this wonderfually laid out ranch-style abode at the feet of the San Bernardino Mountains and the kitchen, while not ‘open’ in the style of so many 90s-and-later kitchens, was still rather spacious with a good amount of counter space. He would demonstrate; we would mimic. He provided recipes; we would mix, knead, turn out, and bake.<\/p>\n Somewhere I still have that stack of recipes, photocopied and often-used. I’ve lost it but hope to find it again someday. What I miss is the whole-wheat bread (with a mixture of honey and molasses) that he taught us to make, and there are a number of great pie recipes buried in the stack, but what I can do from memory is his pie crust.<\/p>\n It’s just a standard, direct, plain pie crust, but sometimes the classics are best. My mother was a great cook, but pie crusts always defeated her; simple is not always easy. And easy is sometimes still a matter of practice. This makes two crusts (e.g. a top and a bottom):<\/p>\n Stir or sift together the flour and salt. Add in half the shortening and cut it together with [a] a pastry cutter, [b] fork, or [c] a couple butter knives until the clumps are pea-size. Then add the remainder of the shortening and cut it together until it is the texture of cornmeal.<\/p>\n I always use a fork.<\/em><\/p>\n One tablespoon at a time add the ice water and incorporate it before adding the next. If you’re in a particularly dry environment, you may need 7 Tbsp, but 6 should be enough. Once the dough holds together (but is not damp\/wet) you are done. Form it into a ball, cover the bowl with plastic wrap, and let it chill in the refrigerator at least 15 minutes.<\/p>\n I’ve been known to use it right away, but warm dough is harder to work with. The key above is to use ice water, not just cold tap water.<\/p>\n Now divide the dough in half and roll out with a rolling pin. I often roll the dough out between two pieces of wax paper, or at least with the dough on a floured surface and with one sheet of wax paper over it, which makes the process easier.<\/p>\n You can do what you want from here … two bottom crusts, a top and a bottom, blind bake it for custard and pudding pies, cleverly and skillfully trim it, and so on.<\/p>\n Sometimes I make a buttery pate brisee instead, frequently for quiche, but I always come back to this one when I need a quick and easy pie crust.<\/p>\n Ms. S.’s family, like so many others, goes around the table on Thanksgiving mentioning what they’re thankful for. The obvious answer for me is: Ms. S. We have our health, our cats, but especially each other.<\/p>\n But that’s for tomorrow, the third Thursday of November.<\/p>\n Tonight I’m thankful for Prof. M., who taught me how to bake.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I was going to write about all the pre-Thanksgiving cleaning and cooking (so that I don’t have to cook as much Thursday, and so that the place is presentable for guests). But while working in the kitchen my mind wandered … Continue reading I. Background<\/h3>\n
II. The Crust<\/h3>\n
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III. The Tradition<\/h3>\n