Scribbles & Munch

            Back in March, I declared 2014 The Year of the Pie.*  This matters little to anybody but myself and those fortunate enough to dine at my table. The simple fact is that pie is one of the most delicious, amazing, fabulous, mouth-wateringly spectacular foods in the universe—when it is done correctly. When it is done poorly, pie is a sad, sad disappointment, bordering on tragedy. And then there is possibly the saddest sin of them all: the crappy piecrust.

            Maybe it’s tough. Maybe it’s flavorless. There are many ways a pie crust can fail, and I never realized how far-flung was the problem until I met a young lady who actually told me she DID NOT LIKE PIE—only pie filling—because “the crust is always so bad.”

            Enough, I say. The madness must end! True, you can purchase your crust mixes, your pre-made crust rounds, even your pre-baked crusts in a disposable tin—but why?  Why do that to yourself, and your fellow diners!? We are now in the Year of the Pie, and summer grows ever nearer with its glorious bounty of dessert-perfect fruits; I challenge you to rethink your position on baking your own! Allow me to enlighten you to the truth behind the expression “easy as pie,” and then you, too, shall enjoy the deliciousness of pie heaven.

            I begin with the crust, for without good crust, pie is little more than slop. (Later posts will offer filling suggestions, both sweet and savory.) This is my own dough recipe, developed over years of ardent pie pursuit. The final version you see here is a combination of recipes from Cooks Illustrated, Alton Brown, Dorie Greenspan, and my family. Yes, you can do this. Just read the following recipe carefully, don’t cut corners, and give it a try. It only seems tricky when you’re new to it, after you’ve practiced once or twice you will realize the gloriousness that is home made pie crust.

Z.D.’s Perfect-for-Everything Pie Crust

¼ Cup vodka

2/3 Cup cold water

3 Cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon kosher salt (if you use regular salt, make it generous)

¼ Cup sugar

1 ½ sticks (3/4 Cup) cold unsalted butter, diced

1/3 Cup shortening, frozen and quartered

-Combine the water and vodka in a clean jar and stick it in the freezer. If you’re wondering, “What’s with the booze?” Allow me to explain. The #1 problem most people run into when making pie crust is what I call The Moisture Challenge: you need the crust to be damp enough to stay together for easy rolling, otherwise you overwork it and it gets tough. Unfortunately this can lead to over-compensating with the cold water, which affects the flour starch and can also lead to toughness. Either way, tough piecrust = bad pie. But here’s where science gets awesome: vodka evaporates at a waaaay lower temperature than water, and it leaves behind NO FLAVOR.** So the vodka you use in this recipe makes the dough wet and handle-able, but then it evaporates in the oven and leaves a tender, tasty crust! TA DAAA! But it needs to be cold, so let it sit in the freezer while you do the rest. If your vodka/water mixture gets slushy on you, that’s just fine.

-Whisk together all your dry ingredients in a large bowl. Using your fingertips cut in the butter and the shortening. (Remember my entry from the other week on cutting in fats? Yes, use your fingertips.) When the mixture resembles coarse sand with some little pebbles, you’re right on the money.

-Gently pour about half of your cold vodka/water mixture into the flour, and toss with a fork. Tossing is not the same as stirring; you want to use the fork to slide down the side of the bowl to the bottom, and bring whatever is on the bottom up to the top with a tiny toss—that’s how you get those stray bits of flour mixture that like to hide at the bottom of the bowl. As you toss, sprinkle in more vodka/water as needed. Your dough should come together into big, moist clumps that you can easily press together into a big happy ball. And yes, you can err on the side of adding more liquid—because it’s not going to cause toughness!

-Ok, now you’re going to divide your dough into balls, press them into disks, wrap them in plastic and stick ‘em in the fridge for at least two hours. How many disks? That depends on what you want to do with this dough. This recipe makes enough pie dough for one deep-dish 12 inch pie, which is a LOT. It can also make two regular 8 inch pies. Or it can make one 9 inch double-crust pie, and one 10 inch tart. Or it can make half a dozen good size meat pasties. So depending on how you plan to use your dough, divide accordingly. Wrapped properly, these disks of dough will keep nicely in the fridge for up to five days, or be frozen for up to two months. So if you’re a pie person, I suggest making a double (or even triple) batch of crust and freezing a bunch, for easy pie indulgence all summer long.

-After your dough has chilled at least two hours (yes, this is necessary—it allows the flour to absorb moisture and makes for way, way easier rolling) remove your dough to a lightly floured surface—I like to use a pastry frame if I don’t have a granite countertop handy. Using a floured rolling pin, start in the middle and roll with quick pressure out to the side. After a couple rolls, turn the dough a little and roll some more. Keep doing this so the dough gets rolled out in all directions, until you have a rough round the size you need for your pie pan (this is why a pastry frame is nice—it has measurements on it). If your crust breaks anywhere, you can pinch it closed. If it’s too cold to roll, you can let it rest a few minutes. When finished, put your rolling pin at one edge and gently roll part of the crust back up over it, and use this to quickly transfer to your pan. Repeat for a top crust.

- Fill as desired and bake away! Some general pie tips: never forget to give the steam a way out, such as poking your top crust with a fork/knife or using a pie bird. I like to dot my pie filling with a little extra butter before putting on that top crust, I think it adds a little something-something. 

Also, remember piecrust dough doesn’t really rise or expand when baked, so the way it looks when it goes in the oven is how it’s going to look when you take it out. If you’re like my aunt, this means it’s going to come out looking like something on the cover of “Gourmet” magazine. If you’re like me, this means it’s going to look…um…rustic! Yeah, rustic, that’s a nice adjective! But it’s going to taste great, regardless.



Also, remember to let your pie cool, otherwise the filling just runs out all over the place and the crust falls apart. And last but not least: did anybody say, a la mode? Good pie deserves good ice cream—indulge in quality, local, from-scratch dairy delights!

*For culinary purposes, the calendar year is from spring equinox to spring equinox…because I didn’t think of it earlier.

**Unless you want it to! Once you’ve got this recipe down, may I suggest making some of your own flavored vodkas for baking? Get a bottle of cheap-ass vodka and divide it among some clean jars, and add infusion items of your choice. I like to use leftover lemon zest in one (especially Meyer lemons, mm!), ginger peel in another, and even the tips of old vanilla beans in another. Then seal and stick in the back of your fridge and forget until you need them. This is booze, people—it will stay good for years. Strain and apply per this recipe. Using these in your piecrust will leave a subtle flavor that enhances the pie. Get creative! (And never pay for flavored vodkas—Waste. Of. Money.)