• Skipping and whistling

    It’s hot and cloudy and breezy, and I’m lethargic. I need to pick the strawberries, but somehow I think it would be good for Mr. Handsome to take a turn picking them. By letting him take a turn, I would be blessing him with the opportunity to see firsthand how our garden grows. No matter how many times I tell him that we have enough strawberries he still thinks that we don’t have an adequate crop. Spending a couple hours bent double in the patch might serve him well.

    Or I could be nice and just do it myself. It’s not like I’m doing anything direly important. (Though writing is one of my saving graces—when I don’t have time to write, my mind shrivels and I start mumbling and drooling.)

    Here’s what I’ll do: I’ll write out the recipe for strawberry pie. If I finish writing in time, I’ll go pick berries. If not, I’ll let Mr. Handsome do it. And I will be drool-free for the rest of the day.

    The rest of you, however, might take up residency in Drool City once you see this pie. (Sorry. Though true, that wasn’t a very appetizing thing to say.)


    I made two strawberry pies yesterday. I’m working to master that recipe that I twittered about. I first made the pie a couple days ago, right after tasting the pies that my sister-in-law made for us to feast on after we finished butchering our chickens. (I’m really striking out, aren’t I—bringing up drool and butchering in a post about pie. I hope this isn’t a bad omen.)

    There are several things that make this pie stand out among all the other strawberry pies. First, the crust is a cinch to make and tastes like buttery shortbread. You press it into the pan with your fingers so there is no rolling involved, and it does not shrink at all. I have tried Deb’s no-shrink tart crust; it shrunk. I tried David’s melted butter pie crust; it did not taste good. I have tried lard crusts, cream cheese crusts, butter crusts, and basic oil crusts, and while they all have a place in my crust repertoire, this pastry has earned the staring position as The Perfect Recipe for Pre-Baked Pastry for a Fruit Tart. It is an oil-based crust (don’t be snobby), and Mr. Handsome, who is not a fan of pie crusts, raved—I am not exaggerating—about this one.


    Second, the recipe calls for a mixture of cream cheese, whipped cream, confectioner’s sugar, and vanilla to be spread on the pre-baked crust and up the sides. Besides tasting delicious, this cream filling serves to insulate the crust, protecting it from the juicy strawberries; the crust is still good as new on the second day (no strawberry pie ever lived longer than two days in our house, so I can’t tell you how the crust holds up after three or more days).


    Third, the strawberry filling uses a juice from crushed, simmered berries that, once thickened, is stirred into the remaining sliced strawberries to create a juicy red strawberry filling. No food coloring, plus an intensified strawberry flavor.


    Fourth, whipped cream is mounded on top. You can’t go wrong where whipped cream is involved. Period.

    This is not a simple pie to make. It’s easy, yes, but as you can see it has numerous different steps (and dirties quite a few bowls, though they are quite easy to wash), but once you get a feel for the different components, you can skip through the steps, whistling merrily as you measure and pour and beat and fold. Furthermore, all the different parts of the pie can be made in advance and assembled last minute. Case in point: a couple days ago I made the strawberry filling and yesterday I made the crust, whipped cream, and cream cheese filling. I stored everything in the fridge (the crust in the jelly cupboard) and this morning I slapped it all together, Miss Becca Boo running out to the garden to pluck me one fat strawberry for the garnish.

    Doubling the recipe is smart because once you taste the pie you’ll wish you had more.

    Fresh Strawberry Cream Pie
    Slightly adapted from my sister-in-law’s recipe.

    4 ½ cups fresh strawberries, divided
    1 cup water
    ½ cup, plus 2-4 tablespoons, sugar, divided
    3 tablespoons Clear Gel (the cook-type)
    4 ounces cream cheese
    ½ cup confectioner’s sugar
    1 teaspoon vanilla, divided
    1 9-inch no-shrink, pre-baked pastry crust (recipe follows)
    1 1/2 cups whipping cream (you’ll need 2 ample cups of whipped cream)

    For the strawberry filling:
    Wash, cap, and slice the strawberries. Mash one cup of the strawberries and place in a small saucepan along with the cup of water. Bring the berry mash to a boil and simmer, with the lid off, for two minutes. Strain the berries, saving the liquid and discarding the strawberry pulp. Put the juice back in the small saucepan.

    In a small bowl combine the sugar and Clear Gel. Add a little of the strawberry juice till you have a smooth paste. Stir the paste into the pan of juice (this process of pre-mixing the sugar and Clear Gel and “tempering” the dry ingredients helps to prevent clumping). Cook the juice, stirring constantly, till clear and thick. Remove from the heat and allow to cool to room temperature.

    Add the cooled, thickened juice to the remainder of the sliced strawberries and stir to coat well. Put the berries in an airtight container and chill in the fridge. (It is best to use these the same day you make them, but I have made them as many as two days in advance and they still tasted fine.)

    For the whipped cream:
    Place the heavy cream in a large mixing bowl, along with 2-4 tablespoons of sugar and ½ teaspoon of vanilla. Whip until stiff peaks have formed. Refrigerate until ready to use.

    For the cream cheese filling:
    In a mixing bowl, cream together the cream cheese, confectioner’s sugar, and vanilla. Add one half of the whipped cream: beat in a little using the electric mixer, and then fold in the rest, except for 1 cup that you’ll spread over the top of the pie. Refrigerate until ready to use (will keep for several days in the refrigerator).

    To assemble:
    Spread the cream cheese filling evenly over the bottom and up the sides of the pie crust. Spread the strawberry filling over cream cheese filling, but not over the top edge of the cream cheese filling. Spread the whipped cream over the strawberry filling, leaving a quarter-inch of the strawberry filling visible. Garnish with fresh strawberries, if desired.

    Store, uncovered, in the refrigerator.

    No-Shrink Tart Crust

    1 ½ cups flour
    1 ½ tablespoons sugar
    ½ teaspoon salt
    ½ cup oil, such as canola
    2 tablespoons milk

    Combine the dry ingredients and stir. Add the wet ingredients and stir till combined.

    Press the dough into a 9-inch pie plate, working it up the sides with your fingers and forming a ridge at the top. When the dough is spread evenly over the plate and there are no cracks or holes, crimp the edge. Prick the sides and bottom of the crust with a fork, about twenty jabs.

    Bake the crust at 400 degrees for 10-15 minutes. Watch it carefully once the crust starts to brown—it can go from golden brown to scorched in the wink of an eye. Allow the crust to cool to room temperature before filling. You can store it, uncovered in a cupboard, at room temperature for a day, or wrap it well and store it in the freezer for several months.

  • Not done yet

    I still want to talk about rhubarb. I hope you’ll forgive me. But hey, it’s good stuff, so I don’t know why I’m apologizing.


    Our rhubarb patch has thinned out considerably what with all the pickings, and I don’t feel like I’ve even gotten that much out of it—only a couple little bags have made it into the freezer. I think it might be time to transplant out sections of the rhubarb, extending the patch and giving the existing plants more space to expand. Then maybe I’d have enough rhubarb. I’m a greedy rhubarb lady, it would seem.


    I suppose it could be worse. I could be greedy with racy lingerie, or with vintage jewelry. Or with high-tech do-dads, or with DVDs. Or with yard art, or wall art, or guns, or vinegars, or handbags, or China dolls, or antique furniture, or Tupperware. Considering all the options, I think rhubarb is a pretty innocent obsession.

    What follows are two recipes: a rhubarb tea and a rhubarb tart. That’s right, I’m giving you a two for one deal—two recipes in one blog post. Now don’t get greedy now and go asking for three. You’re only gettin’ two. That’s it.

    Oh, and I suggest you put a patch of rhubarb in before next summer. Because if you make these two recipes you might find you get a little rhubarb obsessed yourself.

    Rhubarb Tea

    This faintly pink tea is the epitome of refreshing. The rhubarb gives it a discreet tang, and the ginger gives it zip, and I’ll wager a guess that on hot summer days we can all use some zippy tang to push us through.


    2 cups rhubarb concentrate (see note below)
    2 cups water, or ice
    2 tablespoons ginger concentrate (see note below)
    1/4 cup sugar
    juice from one lemon

    Mix all the ingredients together. Taste to check sweetness and add more sugar if needed. Serve over ice.

    Note Number One: For the rhubarb concentrate
    Put 8 cups chunked rhubarb in a medium-sized saucepan and add 8 cups of water. Bring the mixture to a boil and simmer for five minutes uncovered. Turn the burner off, place a lid on the concentrate, and allow it steep for thirty minutes. Pour the mixture through a strainer, discard the rhubarb (or eat it, if you want), and store the concentrate in the fridge. It will keep for at least a week, if not a month (or more).

    Note Number Two: For the ginger concentrate
    Place ½ cup of roughly chopped, peeled fresh ginger in a small saucepan. Add 1 cup of water. Bring the mixture to a boil, and then, in the same manner as the rhubarb mixture, let it steep for thirty minutes. Strain, discard the ginger, and chill the liquid. Like the rhubarb concentrate, it also keeps indefinitely.

    Rhubarb Tart
    Adapted from the April 2009 issue of Gourmet.

    This tart is extremely classy and stunningly gorgeous, in a rustic sense. The original recipe calls for it to be served with vanilla ice cream, but I think ice cream would overwhelm the thin, buttery pastry. I prefer to serve the tart with whipped cream, or nothing at all. It’s that good.


    The tart is best eaten the same day it is made because the crust, which is so charmingly crisp and buttery when it comes out of the oven, will soften with time. The leftovers are still delicious though, so don’t feel that you have to eat it all in one sitting. Though you might end up doing just that.

    The recipe says to cut long strips of rhubarb into thin slices, but I had already chopped my rhubarb stalks into half-inch pieces, thus the small squares of rhubarb in my photos. While my method tasted just fine, it took a really long time and made me feel slightly insane. I recommend that you slice your stalks a bit bigger before slicing them thinly.

    3/4 pound rhubarb stalks, cut into four-inch pieces and then sliced on the diagonal 1/8th inch thick
    ½ cup sugar
    ½ cup orange juice
    1 tablespoon lime juice
    ½ teaspoon orange zest
    one recipe of butter pastry, prepared and chilled

    Mix together the orange juice, lime juice, and sugar. Pour over the rhubarb and toss to mix well. Let the rhubarb macerate for thirty minutes.

    While the rhubarb is macerating, roll and shape the pastry dough according to these instructions.

    When the rhubarb has finished macerating, drain the rhubarb, reserving the juice. Pour the juice in a small saucepan and simmer for 15 to 30 minutes or until it has reduced to about 1/4 cup and has become a sticky syrup.

    While the juices are cooking down, place the rhubarb pieces on the pastry crust. Bake the pastry at 350 degrees for 25-35 minutes, or until the edges are brown and the bottom of the pastry is also brown.

    Remove the tart from the oven and brush the rhubarb and the edges of the crust—in other words, everything—with the syrup. (You’ll probably have a little syrup left over; thin it with warm water and add it to the rhubarb tea for a delightful kick.) Sprinkle with the zest.


    Serve plain, or with whipped cream.