wonky phone photo, but a beautiful pie on the way to the oven

“No way you really made this. Really, you made this? This is the most beautiful pie crust I’ve ever seen, the best pie crust I’ve ever eaten.”

The day I heard those gracious compliments I knew 1) he wasn’t lying 2) those words were well deserved 3) he couldn’t have said them honestly or deservedly a few years prior.

Making a pie for an occasion that has now fallen from my memory, I acutely remember how abysmally I constructed that crust. Paste of flour, butter, water, sugar, and salt: plastered to a mossy green colored laminate counter top, and I, I could not move it. Cracking and crumbling it resisted any transfer. I was a good cook, but a lousy pastry chef. I scrambled the pieces into the pie plate cursing the bother to ever roll them out and haphazardly pressed the dough into a pie shaped hockey puck pastry. Pastry dough requires a light touch and mine was resisting, toughening with my continued unskilled touch. Light baking the crust didn’t help a lick. The sad sides slid, cowering under the blaze of the oven’s heat. The impossible happened, I had foolishly thought the crust could get no worse; baking proved otherwise. Now I had a tough baked, cobbled, sloping sorry crust in place of the raw one that still held a facade of flaky pastry quality with its crumbliness. I recall the quiche mixture it encased. Graciously, that worked out, sort of. I tasted fine, but couldn’t plug the holes in the lousy pastry encasement, leaking through the crust. It would have been satisfying to eat the evidence, but that pie crust was better left on the plate.

I did. I decided maybe I wasn’t a pie crust person. But that was really a lie.  If crust was a crucial part of a pie, and I had the skills to make the inside delicious. I made pies of wild picked blackberries, apples I was taking the time to cut and season, and a curious amount of quiche varieties, what was I doing messing up the half the pie? v Why did I suffer for the art of the filling? I had to question if I liked suffering, because I was clearly bringing it upon myself to make a crust.

That was it, I said. I’m through making bad pie crust. And vowed to do less terrible work the next time.

I did that, but used a ridiculous amount of plastic wrap in the odd process I created. No. This was not answer, but it was the beginning of a change. I set a goal to master pie crust. My weak thing would become strong! Or a slightly more enjoyable task. Yes, I knew I could give up and give into prefabbed pie crusts (and no shame to those who do- I understand the appeal and simplicity, trust me) but I was and continue to be entirely too vain to give in. I had to conquer the pastry beast.

I gave myself a year and graciously my mother gave me a pastry cloth. I read a lot of books. I lightened my touch. I stopped being so stingy and rolling the crust too thin. I dedicated a bag of dried beans to weigh down the pastry during light baking for open crusted pies (foil worked for while, but parchment paper was even better for holding the beans and holding down the crust to prevent puffing and sliding).

The improvements and finesse grew from that year to the next and again. I was laminating and layering my way to perfect pie crust that I liked making. I was proud of myself. Maybe more than that. Maybe full of myself because I had mastered the thing that had been schooling me.

Sinking a fork through the shattering, flaky layers of the pear-almond pie I had made for the neighbors, it clicked: my satisfaction was in eating the evidence. That perfect crust was evidence of my wild improvement. I set a goal and did it. I’ve made ever so many pies in the effort of perfecting that one skill. Now I make them for pleasure and instruction, teaching others technique I taught myself.

So, here’s my best to you. Go forth and master that pastry beast.

All-Purpose, All-Butter Pie Crust

I typically work with whole grain flours, and make this crust regularly with whole grain spelt flour or whole wheat pastry flour. Of course it works well with white flour, but I prefer the nuttiness of the whole grain pairing with the pie filling. Go halfsies if you only have a regular whole wheat flour or another heavy whole grain flour. I’ve had fun with rye and barley or even just adding some bran flakes for a freckled look. But, that’s a personal preference, return to your simple white flour if you must or just because you like it best.

2 1/2 cups whole wheat pastry or spelt flour

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon sugar (optional)

1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter chilled (I like mine barely frozen)

1/4 to 1/2 cup ice water

Whisk or sift the flour, salt and sugar together in a medium-large bowl.

Slice the butter as thinly as you can. If you do this on the butter wrapper it is easy to pick up and scoop into the bowl with the dry ingredients. Rub the butter into the flour mixture with your thumb and forefinger to incorporate the two, thinning and breaking the butter a bit, while working the flour into the butter lightly.

Using a rubber spatula gently pour in the water, a little at a time, lifting and folding the mixture to absorb in without working the dough much. Once the dough comes together, just barely moistened to the point the flour is held together by the moisture stop. Turn the dough ball onto a flour dusted surface, a pastry cloth or cool stone countertop works well. Now take a rolling pin (a large smooth surfaced bottle works in a pinch) and give the dough a few whacks to begin to flatten it. This part is fun, enjoy it. Pinch the cracking edges together if it splinters too much. Smacking the dough begins to form it without working it. You can now begin to roll the dough.

Roll it nice and large not worrying about measurement, but taking care to see that it still can be lifted and moved. Lift and sprinkle more flour underneath as needed, use a scraper or metal spatula to lift if it seems a bit stuck. So long as the dough stays cold it should not stick. (If the dough is too warm and tacky at any time, pop it into the fridge or freezer for a few moments, but don’t forget about it.) Take your nice rolled dough and now fold it in thirds like a letter. Now fold it again in thirds the other direction until you have trim folded square. It is totally fine if it tears a bit, you are going to roll it out again. Take a pause to chill the dough if necessary.

Reflour and whack that dough two to three times to flatten and then gently roll again. This process is called laminating and makes the flakiest layers and lightness so your pie crust can puff just a bit, like puff pastry. To make true puff pastry or croissants you do this many times.

Divide the dough, which is enough to make two crusts. Roll to fit your dish generously. With floured hands lift and set into the pie plate, taking care to push the dough into the edges and sides so it does not shrink. trim dough at one inch around the pan. Fold extra dough under the edge to make the outer crust of a single crust pie. Make a decorative edge as you please pinching or pressing with your thumb and forefinger.

For a single crust pie: To light bake the dough prick with a fork all over, line with parchment and fill full with dried beans to weigh down the crust while it light bakes.

To make a double crust pie: Line the pie plate with the first dough, but trimmed a bit shorter, fill the pie and then top with the upper crust. Trim the top crust longer to give room to tuck it under the lower dough edge. Seal the two together in any pinching or fork pressing pattern that pleases you. Cut a steam vent with a few slashes (at least 1-2 inches long) into the crust.

For a lattice top pie: Cut the top dough into inch wide ribbons. Pick up every other ribbon and place on the pie and then go crosswise with the remaining pieces, folding back and forward again to create a basket weave. (This makes the lengths of the ribbons cut from the circle of dough workout perfectly to fit the round pie.) Trim and tuck the ends to finish the pie.

Brush lattice and double crusted pies with milk, cream, or beaten egg yolk for shininess, sprinkle with coarse sugar for fanciness on a sweet pie. Bake on a preheated baking sheet or on the lowest rack of floor of the oven to create a crisp bottom crust.

What have you learned to master?