Rescue Me

Bread Salad – what is that all about? Pan-ties

Sometimes known as pan molle or panbagnato, bread salad is a rustic dish made day old loaves (bread is generally unsalted in Italy, diminishing shelf life). Purported to be from central Italy, similar dishes pop up across bread cultures across the Mediterranean. The popular version of the salad, panzanella is definitely Italian – made of slightly stale white bread, fresh herbs (usually basil and oregano/marjoram) and veg (usually tomato and red onion) and vinaigrette of olive oil & wine/vinegar.

The salad is thought of as a rescue dish – one that saves ingredients that are a little past their prime or getting ready to go bad – there really isn’t a recipe or a right or wrong way to make it. Olives, sage, cucumbers, smoked salmon, chives, garlic, anchovies, parsley, capers, bell peppers, pesto, pancetta/bacon, a handful of greens like arugula – basically whatever of this and that is around, left over or has to be used before it goes bad.

Right now that means tomatoes. Apparently ought–ought-nine will be remembered as the year of the tomato. People I have only ever exchanged the most basic conversational banalities with walking the dogs are currently rushing from their gardens to give me #5 pounds of tomatoes when Fred, Lily and I walk by. While you’d think I’d be sick of tomatoes at this point, I am making dishes that I have walked away from in years past – gazpacho, because cold soup is salad you can eat with a spoon, but the bumper crop of tomatoes has meant not only chilled soup but homemade pico, salsa, tomato scented rice, BLTs, along with the kitchen standards of tomato sauce and salad Caprese and this year panzanella has been added to the rotation.

As much as I’d like to give a recipe the dish is a little too fluid to be bound by the written direction. Instead a few guidelines might be better: Cookbooks recommend soaking the bread in cold water for about 10 minutes – I find there is enough liquid from the tomatoes to moisten the bread. Ripping the bread into rough pieces is a fine presentation for a rustic salad: The bread should have lots of surface area to absorb moisture but the pieces should be small enough to fit comfortably on the end of a fork. (Confession - I have cubed bread and fried it like croutons for a Caesar salad – this works with cherry, pear or slices of roma tomatoes. I usually caution the worst thing you can do to rustic dishes is pimp them out with expensive ingredients and fancy techniques but occasionally applying one’s craft is useful.)

½ of a baguette and 3 small tomatoes feeds 2 adults. The tomatoes can be ugly, bursting, poorly formed – the cankles of the produce world, wash, cut the blemishes out, give them a rough chop and mix with the bread let the salad sit until the bread softens but don’t let the bread get soggy – about 10 to 20 minutes. The amount of olive oil and vinegar added will depend on how much the moisture the tomatoes provide – The general rule for vinaigrettes is 2/3 oil to 1/3 vinegar but here, don’t be afraid of the vinegar; halvesies is a good ratio. Add salt generously.

Finally, there really isn’t a wrong way to make this dish with the possible exception of making a special trip to the grocery store to buy ingredients. Use what you have.

Freezing The Lily

I had been lamenting the absence of White Lily flour for my biscuits and piecrusts. My friend's mother, graciously brought me two 5 pound bags of White Lily flour on a northern excursion. Even with my prodigious consumption of biscuits and gravy, it may take me awhile to work my way through 10 pounds of this Southern gold. How can one best preserve flour for an extended period of time (I am thinking nine months maximum, probably closer to six)? Any benefits in refrigerating or freezing it? – Flour Power

In the era of globalization, flour is anachronistic; a product of local growing conditions. Here in the Pacific Northwest we grow, mill and use lower protein soft wheat. Across the mountains, in the Inland Empire, high protein winter wheat is the norm. Which is also true in most of the US and Canada. The notable exception is the southern US, where soft varieties of wheat are grown and used. Local cooks have turned the deficit of low protein flour (less gluten = less structure, less chew) into an asset - tender biscuits, soft cakes and dreamy piecrust all of which are exalted in literature and promulgated in tales.

White Lily All-Purpose flour contains 8.6% protein – it is more akin to cake flour (6-9%) than true AP flour (11-12%). White Lily is better suited for recipes where tenderness is desired: biscuits, cakes, pancakes, crepes, piecrusts and decidedly good cookies. The lack of protein and oils in soft flours extends the shelf life of the product. Alton Brown recommends storing most flours in a sealed container that is kept out of direct light.

The exception is the whole wheat flour. Bran, germ, endosperm are milled together to make whole wheat flour – the result is a protein-rich flour full of natural oils. Oils that will go rancid when exposed to oxygen and light. Which is pretty much true of any kind of fat left at room temperature over time – which is why shelf-stable trans fats are so popular in mass-manufactured foods, but that is a different post.

In your case, with 10 pounds of flour, there is a benefit to freezing the excess. Keep in mind freezing itself doesn’t preserve anything; the low temperatures only slow down the spoiling process. With careful storage – double-bag (protect the porous flour from absorbing off scents); pulling the bag out, measuring what you need and quickly restoring the remaining flour back in the freezer; you will be able to get about 12 months of life out of your precious flour. Meaning if it lasts, this year’s White Lily could be next summer’s blueberry shortcake.

Plum Tired

Saucy, Plums? Any good in Pie? – Prunish

No, plums contain too much liquid for a pie, which would only turn the dough into a soggy mess. This is a little heartbreaking considering the fruit is a member of the Prunus family; members include the peach and cherry, whose easy as pie demeanor makes for some good filling.

There are still plenty of ways to plum it up: Cakes, cobblers (see streusel here), Julia Child’s greatest cookbook, Baking with Julia, recommends a sweetened cornbread/johnnycake cobbler topping. There are fritters – served hot and sprinkled with sugar. There is an actual plum pudding. Considering its cherry like attributes, some recommend the plum for clafoutis, if not clafoutis, its kin, the crepe is a safer bet. Paris-Brest – a ring of choux paste filled with kirsch/brandy enhanced pastry cream and sliced plums would be something that is both French and a variation on the traditional.

The Germans make Zwetschgenschnecken – a plum worm. Apparently plums are both pflaume or zwetschge in German but a plum worm is rolled bread baked with fresh plum jelly. Plums sautéed with brown sugar and brandy for a better than maple syrup topping for French Toast and possibly pancakes.

Plums pleasantly make a transition that not all fruits do - working well from the savory side as well as the sweet side. Pitted and stuffed into pork loin with garlic is good. There is even a plum sauce for Duck enthusiasts. Tossed in a salad with goat cheese and almonds is a meal onto itself. Marinated in balsamic vinegar and broiled with or without blue cheese is a very good snack – more in an appetizer, not after school type of way.

Plums make good jellies and jams but the fruit probably best know in its preserved form as a prune. Although they share a common name, the unsexy, dried prune should never be confused with the small tasty fresh Italian prune, unless of course it has been dried out. The word plum was pretty much a generic term for any dried fruit in the late Middle Ages – hence plum pudding. A remnant of this usage is the English custard - Plum-duff or spotted dick, which is a plum-free plum pudding. Slowly, the word came to mean a specific fruit as the Old English, Plume and the Old French Prune, both evolved from the same Latin root - at the same time as the words were drifting apart the fruit was being propagated and selected to make a larger and more diverse fruit.

And just at point of clarification - one is plumb tired as in a plumb line: Never plum tired, no matter how exhausted they become attempting to think of ways to use 80 pounds of fruit falling off a tree in the backyard this week.

Whole Lot of Nonsense

Are you going to Boycott Whole Foods?

Ten days ago, John Mackey CEO of Whole Foods, took to the Wall Street Journal’s editorial page to come out against Obamacare. Normally, the only people who read the WSJ Editorial page are those who have onanistic fantasies involving a three way with Ayn Rand and Margaret Thatcher – in this case, through the power of linking, Mr. Mackey’s opinions on health care initiatives were quickly disseminated to non-traditional WSJ readers.

Mr. Mackey’s op-ed contained stupid, reused and untenable solutions. For instance, arguing that his employees’ insurance doesn’t kick in until a $2500 deductible is exceeded, Mackey believes this means individuals are more careful with how they spend those first $2500 (I guess individuals could opt for a 1/2 of an MRI or wait 5 years to get a physical as to wisely avoid exceeding their cap). Other tired ideas involve shifting tax burdens, eliminating mandates for insurers, improbably repealing laws in all 50 states simultaneously and of course, tort reform - because the first thing insurance companies will do without the threat of lawsuits is pass the savings onto consumers.

Rather than argue with his ideas, some sprung to their keyboards, urging a boycott of the company. The net here – Whole Foods pays better, insures about 90% of their employees and offers workers a chance to invest in their company. Whole Foods buys from regional growers, raises money for local charities and has articulated standards for their products, which means when I want a piece of fish, I go to Whole Foods rather than having to worry about what is being over-fished. This is annoying when I want to buy cornstarch but the Genetically Modified Organism Police won’t let me, but overall, someone is working to ensure the values I am concerned about are being met.

In the past Mackey has improperly cheered his company on in chat rooms, bragged about forming a monopoly on natural foods (1/2 as big as Trader Joe’s and really can’t touch the nations 2,500 co-ops but sure why deprive a man of his delusions). This in part, has led to an expensive battle with the Feds, one that has stifled the company’s growth. In the course of their federal case, Whole Foods attempted to subpoena proprietary records from Portland-based New Seasons. From all outward appearances Mackey appears to be a douche bag, which, you know leaders of Multi-billion dollar corporations tend to be. Mackey may be Napoleonic in his vision but he will end up in Elba if his quest for world domination exceeds his ability to deliver it.

There seems to be two issues going on with the backlash against Whole Foods. One of displacement: Obama promised transparency, reform and change in regard to health care. He has ignored his pledge and the people who voted for him to curry favor with people who think he is a Kenyan-born, secret Muslim. This has little to do with John Mackey - hold Obama to his promises; not boycott a grocery store. Second, relativism people: seriously, Whole Foods the bad guy? Look at Wal-Mart. How about Ralph’s? Kroger? Have you ever been in a Safeway, have ever seen a happy worker in a Safeway? Whole Foods is consistently ranked as one of the top 100 companies to work for. They are still good citizens, despite a half-ass, unoriginal essay on health care solutions. Actually, even including the WSJ editorial, they are still the embodiment of corporate responsibility. The issue here some shoppers have branded Whole Foods as the do-good, green-friendly and urbanely hip paradise, when in fact it is just a grocery store.

One that I am still going to shop at.

Dingo ate my Respectful Memories

What, no review of Julie and Julia? Roger Ebert

I haven't/won't see it. I loved Julia Child: In her writing and cooking shows she was an energetic voice of encouragement for cooks. Equally good at cajoling people to get up and do it and forbidding cooks from dwelling on their inevitable mishaps, her attitude is worthy of emulation and tribute. As for the Julie part, I enjoyed Ms. Powell’s Blog, didn’t read her book, Julie and Julia, but I found myself checking in on her blog as she cooked her way through the thick and often confusing Mastering the Art of French Cooking.

I can’t stand Meryl Streep, the actor - I find her performances to be ridiculously over the top. Dingo ate my Baby – who the hell talks like that? Not any Australian ever. I am pretty careful about when and where I state this opinion: Attacking a cultural icon is never popular – and it isn’t that I am worried about my popularity; there is just enough divisiveness in the world, why challenge people with the cold hard reality the savage vulnerability Streep displayed in The Deer Hunter was an anomaly in her career, not the defining example in her body of work.

A coworker, with good judgment said there is a scene in Julie and Julia when Ms. Child/Streep finds out her sister is pregnant – there the acting was quiet and confident, other than that one scene, her portrayal was just as broad as Dan Aykroyd’s SNL characterization.

There is a promotional book/movie poster in an elevator at work, so I get to spend a few minutes a day looking at it; In it Meryl as Julia is in soft focus staring at the stiff peaks on the end of a balloon whisk – what I see is not a characterization of Julia Child proud of a hard won skill, instead I see Meryl looking ever so self-impressed with her thespianism, saying look at me I’m acting & I just nailed it – I would rather watch the DVD of Julia’s first years than a self-congratulatory kabuki of the same thing.

I did enjoy Michael Pollan’s superb long-form journalism in the NY Times Magazine a few weeks ago. As good as the article was, I dread the inevitable – readers will parrot his conclusions every time the subject comes up. The man writes so well; synthesizing research with a well-honed, educated opinion. Why can’t his readership apply some of that critical thinking that Pollan the author displays when reading Michael Pollan?

My only complaint with his recent article is he is chiding TV shows for being TV shows. The question isn’t do they instruct; it is do they work as entertainment? Some of the shows Pollan marginalized for not teaching cooking technique are actually pretty entertaining. I am more offended by Jim Belushi’s sitcom not being funny than Chopped not informing viewers how to cook dinner.

GARLIC SOUP

Friend of Saucyman (the blog)(and person), Charles Seluzicki, is back only this time he isn't talking about meat:

One neglected little masterpiece of culinary literature is Idwal Jones' CHEF'S HOLIDAY (1952), illustrated by Roger Duvoisin. The book tells the story of a group of Parisian chefs wandering over the French countryside, discovering the best local fare, regaling one another with tales of glorious dinners finished with cognac and Algerian cigars. Oh, the pickled snipe livers, the buttery eels, the roasted pig's head served with draughts of cold applejack! It is all impossibly delightful. One story in this book, however, stands in sharp contrast to the rest. At one point they meet a fellow gourmand whose habit it is to fast through the summer, existing on a diet of the only the simplest garlic soup: garlic, water, salt. Nothing else.

For some reason, when I first encountered this moment some years ago, this particular seasonal discipline intrigued me beyond any reason. And what the hell was garlic soup anyway? I had, of course, known and enjoyed onion soup. But never once had I ever seen or heard of a soup based on this pungent lily. I could not think of garlic as more than an ingredient rather than the central component of any dish. So I sought garlic soup recipes out and tucked them away in a folder for years, filled with a growing fascination at their wild variety.

Garlic soup is considered one of Spain's two great national soups (the other being cocido, the extravagant assemblage of variety meats simmered in vats for an eternity.) Of course, other national varieties exist. In Arleux, in Northern France, a soup is made with smoked garlic, a regional specialty. The Czechs love their garlic soup, prepared with potato, rye bread and caraway sauteed in goose fat. I have found other recipes using garlic, roasted and raw. And there is little predictable about the quantity of garlic used.

In general, the thin garlic soups- two or three cloves to a quart of water- are associated with cleansing curative and diets. Garlic's antiseptic qualities are well known. The most basic version of a classic Spanish garlic soup consists of a few tablespoons of minced garlic, a bit of paprika and a couple generous cups coarse bread crumbs sauteed in abundant olive oil to which six cups of water is added. The whole is brought to a simmer, seasoned with salt and cayenne and stirred as a couple beaten eggs are added. Betty Wason reports a richer version of this soup in The Art of Spanish Cooking (1963). The ratio of garlic increased, chicken stock is used instead of water and tomatoes flavored with bay are added. In the same book there is a recipe for a cold garlic soup (sopa de ajo blanco) with melon or seeded white grapes. This intriguing recipe is based on a clear chicken broth that is flavored with toasted almonds and, depending on where you are, white wine or sherry.

Garlic soups invite highly personal approaches. James Beard is easygoing in his attitude, suggesting 30 cloves ("less or more, as you wish"), sauteed in pork or poultry fat and pureed, to six to eight cups of broth. Poet James Merrill's recipe is as idiosyncratic as his verse and begins with "a mouthful of olive oil." The broth is composed of a combination of two or more different stocks, flavored with one sliced clove of garlic to each cup of stock, pinches of ginger or orange rind, cabbage leaves, turnip slivers, raw shrimp and a dash of vinegar. My own preference follows my friend John Laursen's mantra: "It is impossible to use too much garlic." This is especially true in garlic soup which, as James Beard has it, is "robust" and "beautiful," the latter term I translate as Beard's appreciation of the layers of mellow vegetable sweetness underpinning the tamed aggression and heat of raw garlic.


Charles Seluzicki

Tomanytoes

Tomatoes, so many tomatoes, help? - Constantly Gardening

Despite the fact there are tomatoes today, ready, needing to be picked and processed - relax, they do not have to be eaten in the next 24 hours. Tomatoes can be sliced, salted and laid on cooking racks, the kind used to cool down cookies and placed in the sunshine. Maybe sun-dried tomatoes aren’t the foodie thing they once were but it is a quick and easy way of preserving a harvest. Especially if you are like me, who despite all my cooking skills worry that any home canning project will result in a ptomaine outbreak.

In the fairly recent past, before wash, seed, peel and freeze was a preserving option, folks had a multitude of ways of keeping tomatoes: Chutneys, relishes, pickled tomatoes, tomato wine (sugar and tomatoes until they ferment; a self-preservation of sorts). Our recent forebears made ketchup, tons of homemade ketchup. Andrew Smith reprints a recipe in The Tomato in America, that calls for about 20 hours of simmering after first cleaning, coring, salting, rinsing and seeding and after all that work it is still only ketchup.

Being a modern fella, I’d bypass the ketchup and pack either salsa or Pico de gallo into ziplock bags, load them into the freezer so that some quesadilla in the future might be flavored with the taste of summer.

If you aren’t in a preserving state of mind, there are multiple tomato and bread combinations – the rocket and tomato based pan bagna or with possibly sub in a slice of fresh mozzarella with either a little pesto or fresh basil. The BLT, with extra T. Or if you are vegan inclined – tomato, bread and avocado makes for a fine sandwich. Bread salad, panzanella, with cherry tomatoes is a fine treat. Or bake tomatoes into a loaf of bread so tomorrows sandwich can have that built-in flavor without actual tomato slices.

Tomato tart – piecrust topped with sliced tomatoes and olives at the end of baking. If you avoid the flour, there is tomato potato gratin, just keep in mind the tomatoes will be done faster so par-cook the potatoes (microwave is fine) before baking them together. Ratatouille. Gazpacho. To cook outside the western pantheon of foods; tomato slices cooked with turmeric, ginger, curry and cauliflower, all served over rice.

If you don’t think you can eat all those tomatoes, maybe you can drink them - juice away and have your friends over for a fresh Bloody Mary this week. Or if you don’t share the opinion that it just isn’t a Sunday morning without vodka, turn the juice into a light tomato soup, add herbs and vegetable stock. Freeze the juice to add to ricey things in the future, pilaf, risotto or jambalaya.

You can give them away: At work, a basket of homegrown veg, imperfect, asymmetric and flecked with dirt impresses the modern apartment dweller in a way that perfectly displayed, $6.99 a pound heirloom varieties never ever could.

Under Pressure

Saucyman – For preserved peaches: Do I use champagne or do I use champagne vinegar to flavor the peaches - Bubbles

Both, Neither, it depends, let me elaborate…

Legally, champagne is a sparkling wine grown in the Champagne region of Northeastern France. In order to make all those nose-tickling bubbles, a regular wine is made, usually white, then bottled with a little sugar and yeast. After aging at least 18 months (vintage years must go 3 years) the sediments are disgorged from the bottle and the wine is ready for sale. In accordance with the bureaucratic nature of the French, each bottle must be grown in the designated region, produced using traditional methods or forever be doomed to a life of sparkling wine.

Not that there is anything wrong with sparkling wine – Cava, the Spanish version of champagne can be very good, sophisticated/nuanced, the drink ages well and is generally about a half the price for comparable French vintages. Labels might use the term méthode traditionnelle (on EU produced bottles of Cava): In the US, bottles of sparkling wine might contain the phrase méthode Champenoise. Both inform consumers that the sparkling wine has been produced using the same techniques that any bottle that calls itself champagne must use.

Prosecco, a very drinkable sparkling wine of Italian lineage is not traditionally made; undergoing its second fermentation – this is the one that produces the tiny bubbles that Don Ho was always going on about, in giant tanks. It is then bottled under pressure, producing a longer-lived carbonation comprised of tinier bubbles. The drink is it is dry (that is the secco), inexpensive and the bottle is often topped with a metal cap ala a beer bottle, which really just endears to the product on some level I can’t explain.

Should you use champagne – maybe if you have a champagne budget: If not, Cava is a good substitute and Prosecco is generally even more affordable. To a lesser extent, because of price not quality, a sparkling wine grown and bottled on the left half of the US is a good substitution. Generally a dish is only going to be as good as the ingredients you put into it – broth from a carton for instance just really isn’t going to make a great soup. Alcohol tends to be the exception to this rule, because wine, brandy or other spirits aren’t used in great quantity in recipes – In a sauce, the strong aggressive flavor of a young rye lends more flavor than aged bourbon. What is bad for subtlety and worse for a hangover actually works out pretty well for cooking.

As for the champagne vinegar – yes, a little acidity is always good in cooking. I would find the sweetest youngest, cheapest champagne at the store, mix it with 5-10% champagne vinegar and feel you have done your ripe peaches justice.

Streusel Von Topping

Pecan & pumpkin pies go topless, apple & peach pies are usually baked - covered with sheet of pastry over them and many berry pies go half and half - topped with a lattice of pastry. Some of this has to do with tradition, how to best manage the cooking process (steam v. drying out the ingredients) and surprisingly a little of this has to do with the preference of the pie maker.

There is another, little talked about way to top pies and that is with streusel. The word comes from the German Streuen, or scattered about, which is about the same as the English strewn, to scatter untidily over a surface. Traditionally, it is a mixture of fat, flour, sugar and spices, streusel serves 3 functions:

1) Adds Flavor
2) Absorbs excess moisture
3) Insulates/protects baked good from the dry heat of the oven

Streusel is much beloved in the Saucykitchen, which like Saucyman, (the person, not the blog) is pretty situational – making adjustments for the individual situation as opposed to working on a universal truth. It is a topping that lends itself to pie, bread pudding, cookies and the less common broiled bananas (& Vanilla Ice Cream) is good. Better, an ingredient that is adaptable enough to use a little extra cinnamon for apples or is flexible enough that a handful of toasted almonds can enhance a peach pie.

Because there isn’t a set recipe for streusel, what you are strewing is more important than where you strewing. A variety of things can be subbed in and out – cardamom, almond extract, almonds, Amaretto, hazelnuts, Frangelico, walnuts, maple syrup, bourbon, scotch whisky depending on what you are working with and what you wish to accomplish but the following is the baseline recipe – It is enough for one 9 inch pie. Multiplying by 1.5 will yield enough to cover a small bread pudding.

½ Cup Brown Sugar
¼ C. Sugar, sugar
1 stick – 4 oz butter, cut into 8 pieces
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
½ t salt
1 Tablespoon vanilla extract
½ C. flour + 1 Tablespoon
½ C. breadcrumbs

Add together in a food processor and pulse until the ingredients are roughly mixed together. Top a pie.

Formulating Pi(e)

Professional bakers often refer to their recipes as ratios or formulas. Expressing ingredients as 1 part flour, 1 part butter, 1 part sugar, 1 part egg works if you are making a cake a cup or a pound in size. Working with base numbers makes it is easy to scale up to feed 400 people or working in oz, pounds or cups. The mathematical rigor of baking ratios reinforces the understanding that baking is about precision: Baking is a Supreme Court appeal, stovetop cooking is Boston Legal with William Shatner.

There are all sorts of different pastries that can be used for making desserts - puff, pâte sucrée, straight-up shortbread, cream cheese crust, sour cream pastry, cheese crust – all have their place in pie plates and tart pans but for most of my pie baking I use my own formula; based on .5 and 1; it is easy to remember and makes for hearty, flaky, crusty crust. It is good for 1 – 9 inch pie.

1.5 Cups flour
1 stick butter
1 Tablespoon sugar
.5 teaspoon salt
1.5 Ounces of Ice Water

Cut butter into 8 pieces and freeze for 5 to 15 minutes. Remove butter from freezer, place in a food processor with flour, sugar & salt. Pulse 5 to 10 times until butter looks like flour coated peas or currants. Uniformity is unnecessary.

Transfer to a mixing bowl and add water an ounce at a time, mixing only until the dough forms a ball. Cover pastry ball I plastic and place it the fridge for at least 30 minutes.

Preheat the oven when you remove the dough to roll out. 425-450ºf.

This resting period allows what little gluten has formed to relax and more importantly, allows the butter to rechill – remember hot oven, cold pastry. The dough will be hard to work with when it is removed from the cold but the pastry will become more malleable and easier to work as it is rolled out. Turn the ball of dough out on a lightly floured surface, working with a rolling pin, roll center out towards the edges, give the pastry a ¼ turn every four rolls. After working around the clock once so with 4 turns, fold the edges of the dough towards the middle and reform the pastry into a ball. Flip it over and roll out – again working from the center towards the edges, turning the dough ¼ rotation . The pastry should be about 1/8 of an inch thick when complete. Truthfully, I have never measured the thickness of a pastry…

Instead, the dough will roll out to be roughly round, about 12 inches in diameter, big enough to fit comfortably inside of a 9-inch pie plate. Line the pie plate with the dough and place it in the fridge for 20 to 30 minutes. This is a good time to work on the filling. How you fill the pie is a personal choice, how you top your pie is the subject of the next Saucyman.

The Life of Pie

Saucyman, Even though you wouldn’t put blueberries in it, how do you make piecrust?

There are only elements essential to a good piecrust:

1) Hot Oven
2) Cold Pastry

A piecrust is a matrix of fat and flour. A baker creates this matrix by mixing a very simple list of ingredients together – Flour, hopefully butter, sugar, water and salt. Sugar and salt have some superhero/magical/predicable scientific reactions in cooking but not so much at the low levels they appear in piecrust; the salt seasons and the sugar aids in browning the pastry. As we have mentioned in previous Saucymans, water and flour together form the elastic gluten, but in a piecrust, gluten is not as important as the interaction between the fat and flour.

In a piecrust, flour coats the outside of the fat: Placed in the oven, the fat melts, carrying the flour with it – think of slow moving lava depositing sediment – this action forms little pastry strata throughout the piecrust. The water; present in both the moisture in the butter and the addition of ice water, turns to steam in the oven separating the fat and flour into individual layers.

As a fat, butter is particularly troublesome, if it gets too warm during mixing or your oven isn’t hot enough, the butter melts, soaking into the flour, resulting in a paste; instead of the elegant layers of a flaky, crunchy piecrust. Crisco or vegetable shortening is far more forgiving than butter - Butter melts at around 85º f, a temp that will literally melt inside your mouth, but it will also actually melt in the kitchen on a summer day, if the oven is on. Vegetable shortening remains consistently soft through a wide range of temperatures – In a piecrust, shortening may produce a more pliable pastry (all the better for rolling) but it melts at a higher temperature, later in the baking process so shortening doesn’t have the lift and separate action of butter.

The best way to keep the butter cold is by slicing it and putting in the freezer for 5 to 15 minutes. Take it our and mix quickly. (Normally, I recommend, learning to do something by hand before graduating to a machine, so you get a feel of how a recipe comes together. Since temperature is a key factor in piecrust, 10 pulses in a Cuisinart, will yield more success, more often than laboriously mixing by hand.) Let the dough rest in a refrigerator for 30 minutes before rolling. After rolling out, line the pastry in the pie pan and place in the freezer for 5 minutes or the fridge for at least 20.

That keeps the cold side cold, the best way to keep the oven hot is to preheat the oven to 425º- 450º f. Opening the oven door to put the pie in is going to let out 25 – 50 degrees of hot air. The single most important time the piecrust is in the oven is the first 10 minutes, crank it up: A hot temperature sets the shape of the crust and helps the fat melt quickly and evenly.

Despite what you heard on the street, and maybe even experienced, piecrust, good piecrust is easy. Before delving into the how to make a crust it is important to understand what you are doing and why you are doing it. The next post will give directions and a formula for a totally basic pastry dough.