Pie — It’s No Cake Walk
A baker finds her recipe for the perfect pie
After much grousing among my community and friends—“No professionals allowed!” was their motto—I recused myself from competing in the pie-baking contest at a recent Harvest Party. This was a sacrifice because I can’t imagine a better afternoon on this rugged coast with my son than one spent picking fruit from an orchard and making pie. In a self-serving flash of inspiration, I volunteered to judge the competition. Who else would be up to such a challenge?
My childhood home wasn’t one of bakers. At eleven, I went through cookbooks at the library until I found a picture of the perfect specimen; its apples and sugar had boiled through, depositing caramelized drippings atop the browned crust. I walked the book home, cutely convinced I could make such a pie, even figuring I could rush some steps and still get a good result. Baking my first one from scratch for my grandpa, I discovered so many unexpected complexities in the process that I’ve been avoiding double-crusted pies ever since.
At my bakery and restaurant, I make galettes and open-faced pies (we sell whole pies only at Thanksgiving, and even then I evade the fearsome double crust by topping our apple rounds with streusel). I wrote a cookbook that included a recipe for huckleberry pie, but I still lack the confidence to just whip one up; I stress over whether the dough will be flaky enough and the fruit will set, and I check the oven fifty times.
At this point in my career, it seems silly to be intimidated by something as “easy as pie.” The truth is, pie is far from a cake walk and requires constant practice. Real pie bakers make hundreds of their specialty, mixing each one by hand without the aid of measuring equipment or a recipe; they talk while working, unaware that they are engaged in a delicate art, one that anyone truly in the know mightn’t dare attempt.
Multiple factors contribute to the making of a great pie and—as with that initial example I chose from a book—the visual aspects are what I notice first. I can rule out many a contender on sight: The top crust must be flaky, crisp, and GFB (golden f’ing brown), cannot contain raw spots, and must look like it could crumble at any moment—your fork should crack through it. A slice should not reveal space between the top crust and the interior fruit. Soggy bottoms are disqualified immediately, and filling must be set but not gummy. I’m all for traditional flavors but will award points for interesting, unusual combinations.
Only one entry at the contest fit my qualifications and I picked it out immediately. The epitome of all pies, it was a deep-dish double-crust with an unadorned, rustic, sugared exterior. The crust was perfectly browned and the sugar crystals caught the light, making the whole pie sparkle. The Pink Pearl apple filling nuzzled right up against the top, and the bottom crust was the very same texture as the top’s: crisp and browned and not at all soggy. In contrast to the crust, the apples’ beautifully rosy hue was stunning, their flavor a balance of tartness and sweetness with hints of rose geranium sugar. It was perfection in every way.
The victor, Heather Lanier, makes several pies a week. She grew up on a family-owned five-hundred-acre ranch where she tends her own orchard, picks the fruit, grinds the flour in a hand mill, and, in a span of just twenty minutes, makes a perfect round. She uses the tiniest amount of sugar I’ve ever tasted in a pie.
Before today, the greatest compliment she’d gotten was her father saying she made a good crust.
• Fresh, hand-milled flour: She always has a ton of kids around, so she will fill the mill and let the kids grind away. It’s a game for them, and she’s left with the prized flour.
• Ingredients mixed by hand: She works salted butter into the dough manually, breaking up the pieces by squeezing and massaging them. This creates small and large chunks of butter in the dough and affords a feel for how much ice water will be needed. Using your hands helps control the process; the more minimally the dough is worked, the flakier it will be.
• Fruit at its peak, fresh off the tree: She uses fruit picked moments before it’s incorporated, but never before it’s perfectly ripe. Add sugar only to enhance and sweeten the fruit slightly; judicious application allows its subtle nuances to come through.
The secret of all great pie secrets is to make them as often as you can and enjoy the hands-on process. The more you do it, the better your pies will be.
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