I think I’d made a three-tier wedding cake before I faced down my fear of pie.
Back then, just the idea of pie crust — actually, the idea of anything that required a rolling pin — was enough to chase me from the kitchen. Had there been a pie therapist in town, I might have signed up for sessions. Instead, I spent a day with a friend who knew her way around dough, made a pie with her and then made a pie every day for weeks and weeks after.
That was before people were talking about how many times you have to do something to perfect a skill. (Had I known that the number hovered around 1,000, I might have stayed a scaredy-cat.) And it was also before the food processor, the game-changer in piedom. (You can make the dough without a machine, too. Read on.)
Today, I’ll make a pie like this double-crusted blueberry beauty even on days when I’m crazy busy. Contrary to what I used to think, pie is no biggie, and it can be tucked into almost any day. And it should be fit into these days, when fruits are so pie-worthy.
The filling is almost pure berry. There’s sugar, of course, but not lots, and lemon or lime juice, so important when you’re working with fruit; the citrus flavor cuts through the rich crust and the sweet fruit and makes you pay attention to the combination. The salt helps in that way, too. Then there are a couple of spoonfuls of flour, to turn the berry juice jammy. And finally, there’s my little sopper-upper trick: bread crumbs sprinkled over the bottom of the crust to form a slim barrier. If you’d like, you can replace the bread crumbs with cookie crumbs or, better yet, tiny cubes of stale plain cake.
Your password to pie is “chill.” Yeah, you should chill, but it’s the dough I’m thinking about. Refrigerators and freezers are a crust’s best friends. The butter in the crust — and the recipe is for an all-butter crust — should be cold and firm; frozen would be even better. And the water should be ice water.
Because I work the dough in a food processor, the job is done so quickly that the butter never has time to get warm and soft. (If you want to make the dough by hand, follow the recipe using very cold rather than frozen butter, and work the butter into the flour with your fingertips or a pastry blender. Similarly, you can make the dough in a mixer fitted with the paddle attachment.)
Mix until you have a bowl full of moist clumps and curds; you don’t want the dough to come together and ride along the blade. Gather the dough together, divide it in half, shape each half into a disk and commit an act of pastry heresy: Roll the dough now! That might not sound sinful to you, but every pastry teacher I ever had preached the gospel of refrigerating and then rolling the dough. It took me ages to admit that I’d broken that rule (and was unrepentant).
Roll the soft dough between sheets of parchment (or wax) paper, lifting the paper frequently so that it doesn’t get rolled into the dough. Working this way is a pleasure; the greatest risk is that you’ll be so happy rolling, you won’t know when to stop. The time to stop is when the diameter of the dough is 11 or 12 inches. If the dough isn’t too warm, you can fit it into the buttered pie plate right away. (If it is unworkable, just chill it for 30 minutes before having another go at it.) Freeze the crusts while you make the filling, preheat the oven and toast your success.
When it comes time to construct the pie, pull the crusts from the freezer, fill the bottom crust and moisten the rim. Test that the top crust is supple enough to drape over the berries, center it, press it against the rim, trim the edges of both crusts flush with the plate and crimp them with a fork (or leave the overhang and flute the edges). Don’t forget to cut slits in the top crust, so the filling’s steam has a place to flee, and, if you’d like, brush the top crust with cream and sprinkle with sugar. Bake.
Then bake another pie. And another. Everything you learn from this blueberry pie will work for summer’s fruits and berries and hold for fall, when apples and pears will be ready for pie-ification.
Photograph by Scott Suchman. (This story appeared in my Everyday Dorie column in Washington Post Food.)