Rounding the Corner, Headed for Home

I did it! Kinda. In 24 weeks, I made 18 out of the 20 pies listed by the New York Times as the "Twenty Pies to Make this Summer."

It's no longer summer. But not all of them were pies. I'd say that evens things out a bit.
Between Midpoint Pie and now I made three last desserts:

Butter Pie

A Butter Pie, to which I added cranberries, chocolate chips, and pecans. This was taken to a Friendsgiving at Sarah's house, which was super delicious. It would very sugary and rich, to no one's surprise. But I rocked the crust out!

A Pear-Pomegranate Pie. This got made twice, because it was THAT good. The crisp pears and the pomegranate molasses was consumed at two additional Thanksgiving celebrations. I used the Smitten Kitchen's All-Butter Crust for this recipe, and made a lattice top. It was beautiful - probably the crown jewel in my quest.

I was all proud of myself for making 18 pies, but while coming up with this post realized I'm a dummy who can't count - I had missed the Mixed Berry Almond Crunch Crumble! So on December 23 I scraped together everything I had in my kitchen and came up with this dessert, which was very, very good- and got eaten in a bar during a concert. A tip: drain frozen fruit before you bake it. Why didn't I do this before?!

Two pies remain: an Apricot and Almond Tart, and a Rose-Scented Berry Tart with Almond-Shortbread Crust. But screw those pies. No way. I'm done.

Pear Pomegranate Pie

Why I am not making the last two pies:

1. They are not pies. they are tarts.

2  They will collectively take over 8 hours to make (including chill time)

3. French butter, apricots, frangipan is expensive

4. Pretty sure I’ve gained five pounds and eating pie has contributed to this

5. My last two pies were easily some of the tastiest and had the prettiest/best crusts. Mission accomplished.

6. I DO WHAT I WANT, NEW YORK TIMES. I refuse to be guilted into completing a faux contract filled with desserts that weren’t even pies to begin with.

Top 10 best pie moments:

1. Deep frying peach pies for my streetcar friends

2. Pie-stravaganza!

3. Diner - en - Blanc tart - most complicated and super pretty - I couldn’t believe that not only did it turn out, I didn’t drop it on the way to the picnic

4. Grandpa’s pie - probably one of the last desserts he got to enjoy before he died. Also, sister bonding time is awesome.

5. PIENADO. most fun group outing. 

6. Brown Butter Nectarine Cobbler/Lumenocity was fun to share with strangers and the easiest/tastiest to make

7. Giving away berry crumble at a rock concert the day before Christmas Eve.

8. The first crust I made that didn't fall apart - Plum Crostada

9. The alone time I got to spend working out complicated recipes

10. Spreading sweet dessert goodness amongst lots of friends, family, and strangers. 

Pie Superlatives:

Best pie-eating spot: Washington Park

Worst pie: Lazy Sonker. Not a pie.

Healthiest pie: Pear Ginger Crumble

Farthest-away pie: Cherry-almond crumble (sang happy birthday to Katy in England)

Least healthy pie: toss up between Butter pie (added chocolate chips) and tarts (SO MUCH BUTTER)

Total pounds of butter used: 6

Total pounds of sugar used: 5

Pie participants: over 50

Best filling: Plumb Chutney Crumb Pie/Peach Pie

Prettiest Pie: Fruit Tart/Raspberry Hazelnut Tart

Ugliest pie: Pear Ginger crumble

What Did I learn?

Patience. Planning. How to roll out a great crust (keep it cold, use lots of flour). Adding savory herbs to fruit is really tasty. Pears are hard to find ripe. French butter is a thing that exists. Recipes are annoying but sometimes necessary. Dessert is best when eaten with friends. 

There's Always Pie

New life motto.

This year, the changing of the seasons seemed to bring a gust of contentiousness alongside dropping temperatures and turning leaves. Ugly rants from people on all sides - blaming liberals, conservatives, entitled Gen Y-ers, Baby Boomers, poor people, rich people, Republicans, Democrats. Racism. Shootings. Even locally an embattled local race for mayor and City Council riles up neighbors and co-workers, each of us convinced we are right. Hell, in OTR it feels like Main Street versus Vine Street. East and West. New and old. Poor and Rich. Right and wrong?

It's exhausting. Reading story after story, comment after comment filled with bitter, angry words. Hatefulness directed towards our fellow humans. Participating in it makes me sad and tired and doubting humanity. Enough is enough. I beat a retreat from the buzz and bustle of an OTR weekend and got back to basics. Friday was spent solitarily chopping veggies; my kitchen's been blessed this summer by the fruits of my guy's family garden.

Homemade butternut squash ravioli with brown butter, hazelnuts, and homemade sauce.

There is nothing more cathartic than Dylan on vinyl, red wine in the glass, and the simple monotony of vegetable prep. Ripe, bursting tomatoes simmered slowly into sauce. Six little butternut squashes were carefully peeled, scooped, and chopped into a dice, frozen for future soups and stews. The worries of the world fall away in the kitchen.

I packed up and headed back to Indiana to see family on Saturday and Sunday. Introduced my sister and her roommate to John Prine and the complexities of homemade ravioli. Together we made a pie to bring to dinner with my grandparents the next day.

I spent Sunday morning learning the intricacies of canning applesauce from my mother. The smell of cooking apples and the rattle of the pressure cooker were an integral part of childhood - I don't even remember what Mott's tastes like. There are

There's ALWAYS pie.

many paths to adulthood; my final step (marriage, babies, and home ownership notwithstanding) was learning how to can applesauce. I returned to Cincy with a small pressure cooker and my great-grandmother's Foley Food Mill. She ran her applesauce "for company" through twice, and loaded it up with extra sugar. Pure bliss tastes like superfine applesauce - and she was happy to see her grandbabies running around like banshees hopped up on liquid candy.

When you've grown up riding combines, taking back roads to Grandma's and other details of life in or near the country, the Rye Pecan Pie we unveiled for my grandfather Sunday afternoon tastes like home. Two sticks of butter and enough brown sugar, molasses and corn syrup to sink a ship envelope the tastebuds like a soft, billowy-bosomed hug from Grandma herself. It's adapted from Diner, a restaurant known for their fried chicken, in Brooklyn. It called for a springform pan, but that wasn't available in my sister's college kitchen - an 8x8 cake pan worked just as well. It took a while to make - but I'm learning that these good things do. Katy, Kayleigh and I sat up, talking and playing cards, waiting patiently through all the steps of the pie.

Love you, Grandpa.

Grandpa loves pecans. He always has a bag of them and shells them on Sundays when he's cheering on (or verbally lambasting) his football teams. Before I left for college we had Sunday dinner every week at their place without fail for the better part of ten years. He's been an important part of my life - instilled  in me a love of trains and respect for hard work and doing things right at an early age. He's not doing so well as of late -  coming home and seeing him was definitely the right call. I returned to Cincinnati with a slightly sunnier outlook. If worse comes to worse, I'll blow up my tv, throw away my paper, move to the country, and build me a home. 

Rye Pecan Pie, from this recipe.

Serves about 12
Takes 2-4 hours.

Here's what you need:

FOR THE CRUST:

• 2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
• 1 1/2 tablespoons granulated sugar
• 1/2 pound cold unsalted butter, cut into dice
• 1/2 cup ice water, more as needed
• About 5 cups dried beans (for baking)

FOR THE FILLING:

• 5 eggs
• 1 1/4 cups light brown sugar
• 6 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
• 1/3 cup molasses, dark or unsulfured
• 1/3 cup light corn syrup
• 2 teaspoons vanilla extract
• 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
• 3 tablespoons rye or bourbon, not more than 90 proof
• 2 cups finely chopped pecans
• 2 1/2 cups pecan halves

Here's what you do with it:

• Make the crust: In a mixer fitted with paddle attachment, combine flour, salt and white sugar at low speed. I used the food processor. Add butter and mix until pea-size lumps form. Raise the speed to medium-low and add 1/2 cup ice water in a slow, steady stream, mixing just until dough holds together. To test, pinch a small amount of dough. If it is crumbly, add more ice water, one tablespoon at a time. Shape dough into a ball and wrap it loosely in plastic, then roll it into a disk. Refrigerate at least one hour, or up to 3 days, before rolling. (Dough can be frozen for up to a month.)
• Open a 10-inch springform pan, flip the bottom over so the outside surface faces in, then close. This will make removing the pie easier when it is done, by preventing the dough from sinking into the pan’s crease. OR use an 8x8 cake pan, well greased with non stick spray. On a lightly floured surface, roll chilled dough into a circle 16 inches in diameter. Lift it and let it settle into pan, fitting the dough down into the edges. Press the sides firmly against pan and pinch around the top rim. Trim dough with kitchen scissors so it hangs over the rim by one inch, reserving excess. Refrigerate in pan until very cold and firm, at least 45 minutes.
• Heat oven to 400 degrees. Prick bottom of dough with a fork. Lay a piece of parchment or wax paper in pan, then a piece of aluminum foil. Fill foil lining with dried beans to top of pan. Bake 15 to 25 minutes, until the sides of the crust have set and turned a light golden brown. Remove from oven and lift out the beans, foil and parchment. Patch any holes with reserved dough, pressing firmly. Bake 10 to 15 minutes more, until golden brown. Let cool at least 30 minutes before filling.
• Fill the pie: Heat oven to 325 degrees. In a bowl, whisk together the eggs, brown sugar, melted butter, molasses, corn syrup, vanilla, salt and rye or bourbon. Place baked pie shell, still in the pan, on a sheet pan. Gently pour in the filling. Sprinkle chopped pecans evenly over surface. Working from outside in, arrange pecan halves in concentric circles, without overlapping, until entire surface is covered. (Use only as many as needed.)
• Bake 50 to 60 minutes, just until filling is firm and a wooden skewer comes out clean when inserted into center. (Do not worry if the overhanging crust becomes very dark brown.) Let cool completely. Use a serrated knife to saw off all overhanging pie crust. Carefully remove outer ring of pan. Slice with a large, very sharp knife and serve with whipped cream.