I have been obsessed with pie, lately. Also, cherries. (It was cherry season last week.)
The pie thing is fairly obvious. I mean, c’mon. Pie. In addition, though, I have been listening to back-episodes of KCRW’s Good Food, and the host, Evan Kleiman, is obsessed with pie. So, I’ve been having her in my ear, talking about a LOT of pie. On top of that, two of my favorite diners carry all sorts of yummy pie. The only kind they don’t carry is gluten-free. So I’ve known for a while that I need to learn, once and for all, how to make a damn pie crust, especially since all the pre-made gf pie crusts I could find were only sold during the holiday season.
I did what I always do when I’m learning how to do something that intimidates me. I pulled out the training wheels. In this case, that meant buying a piecrust in a box. Well, a bag, really. Bob’s Red Mill to the rescue! In addition, I did a lot of research on what makes a good pie crust, and what to do and what not to do when working with it. It turns out, a lot of the Not To Dos are related to not activating the gluten in the flour, so I felt I was already ahead of the game.
I did mention cherries were in season last week, didn’t I? They were actually in season for the last three weeks–and they’re gone already! The first week I found them, I bought a batch and made some of Mrs. Wheelbarrow’s brandied cherries. Unfortunately, that recipe requires the cherries to set for about a month before they’re ready for eating, so I still can’t report on those. The second week, I bought another batch, but by the time the weekend rolled around, I was too pooped to pop. And then last week was, as you may have noticed, vacation. I had had Plans for baking during my vacation. Unfortunately, a nasty toothache-turned-root-canal sort of took over my time off, so I only ended up with one day where I felt up to cleaning the kitchen and then making pie. (And then cleaning the kitchen again, because we still don’t have a robot housekeeper.)
So I made pie on the last day of my mini-vacation.
Honey ate it. I ate it. We didn’t share.
…We also sort of didn’t take photos. Maybe next time.