Anna Gillen's Grape Pie

Two years ago, nearing the end of October, my friend Jake Hoffman sent me a recipe for grape pie. Included was a story. When Jake's grandmother died, he and his mother found this secret recipe among her belongings. It was "secret" not in the sense that her grape pie was so beloved that she never divulged the true ingredients, but because he had never recalled her making it, let alone ever heard of such a dish himself. A penchant for Concord grapes was in his blood, though,-- he and his mother, as he said, "always enjoyed Concord grape juice together." Curious about what it might reveal about their matriarch, they tried it out. Since then, the pie has become a fall ritual for Jake, when grapes make their yearly appearances at farmers markets and vines in his South Portland, Maine neighborhood. He's been making it every September or October for the past eight years.

I've had a few brushes with grape pie, but had never actually made or eaten one before, at least of the Concord variety. When I lived in North Carolina, I made a Muscadine Hull Pie, with the skins of the sweet, round fig-purple grapes that grow in the area. As for pie of the Concord variety, I'd first heard of it back in 2009, when my friend Angela shared a post here of a version her friend illustrator Jill Bliss had made. A few years later, my parents sent me a souvenir bumper sticker and children's book from Monica's Pies in Naples, New York, after becoming devotees of her signature grape dessert while on a road trip through the state.



As it turns out, Naples, New York is essentially grape pie ground zero. There in the western side of the state, along the Finger Lakes, Concord grapes grow extremely well and much of the region's economy relies on their production and byproducts (read: wine). Grape pie in particular rose to prominence there in the early 1960s when Al Hodges, the owner of Redwood Restaurant began offering a version, made from a recipe he picked up from a local German woman (grape pie is thought to be a German recipe). Demand for the dessert soon outgrew the restaurant kitchen, so Hodges hired Irene Bouchard, now known as the mother of Naples' grape pies. She started a small business out of her home which at its peak, produced 6,000 grapies each season. Bouchard passed away last year at the age of 98.

The Concord grape region where Naples is located actually stretches from Western New York and into Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Michigan. It's within that region that we can situate Jake's grandmother Anna Gillen. Here's what Jake told me about Anna:

"Anna (nee Welsh) Gillen, was born in Hazelton, Pennsylvania, in 1919 and grew up in the Anthracite coal patches of Northeastern Pennsylvania (specifically Jeddo and Freeland). She moved to Bethlehem in her late teens as mining towns were declining and tons of people were finding work with Bethlehem Steel. Mother of 5, and a bank teller, she loved math and always wanted to be a teacher, but never was. She did a lot of baking until her death in 2011. Her oatmeal raisin cookies will never be beat, nor will her apple crumb pie." Turns out, her grape pie won't be either.



I finally got my hands on some Concord grapes this year, and made Anna's recipe. I was initially dubious of the crumble crust, not for taste-sake, but because I wanted to make sure the deep purple hue was visible in the pie. But I found the crumble to be an essential part of the recipe, counteracting the tartness of the grapes with its sweetness, and adding a sand-sugar texture to the syrupy filling. The flavor is rich and aromatic and evocative-- of memories drinking Concord grape juice with mom and grandmother's delicious secrets, of enterprising home bakers and vineyards running through the middle of the country, of a yearly fall ritual I may need to adopt for my own.

Anna Gillen's Grape Pie
Adapted from Jake Hoffman's grandmother's recipe

Ingredients
For the pie:
Nothing in the House pie crust, halved
4 cups or 2-2 1/2 pounds Concord grapes
1/4-1/3 cup granulated sugar, depending on sweetness of grapes
1/3 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 Tablespoon fresh lemon juice
2 Tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

For the topping:
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/3 cup unsalted butter

Directions
1. Prepare half of Nothing in the House pie crust as per the directions, reserving the leftover egg for an egg wash and saving other half of the recipe in the freezer for a future pie. Chill dough at least one hour before rolling and fitting into a greased and floured 9-inch pie pan. Wrap with plastic wrap and place in fridge until ready to use. 

2. Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Pop grapes put of their skin and separate pulp and skin into two medium-sized bowls. Place pulp in a medium-sized saucepan and bring to a boil. Once boiling, reduce heat and simmer uncovered, 5 minutes. Run pulp through a seive or food mill to remove seeds.

3. Place de-seeded pulp into the bowl with the grape skins. In a separate bowl, stir together sugar, flour, and salt to combine. Add the lemon juice and melted butter to dry ingredients, then mix into the grape mixture.

4. Pour the filling into the pie crust and brush crust with reserved egg wash. Place pie pan on a cookie sheet and bake sans crumble top for 25 minutes at 400 degrees. Meanwhile, prepare the topping by stirring together flour and sugar, and cutting in the butter until coarse crumbs form. Keep in fridge until ready to use.

5. After 25 minutes, remove topless pie from the oven and scatter the crumb topping over the grape filling. Return to oven for 15-25 more minutes until filling is bubbling and crust is golden brown. Enjoy!

Related recipes:

Muscadine Hull Pie

Quince Biscuit Pie

Sweet Cherry Pie with Cornmeal Streusel

Whole Wheat Plum Crumble Tart

Buffalo Chicken Fried Pies

In being the keeper of a pie blog, I've come to be a recipient of a lot of harebrained pie ideas. Last year around this time, Brent came to me with one. Buffalo. Chicken. Fried. Pies. His vision was for a self-contained Super Bowl snack that captured the flavor of chicken wings, complete with hot sauce, carrots,  celery, and blue cheese dressing, but was encapsulated in a pie crust and able to be held in the hand while watching the game (or Beyonce as the case may be).

I was skeptical but willing to give it a try. We were invited to a Super Bowl party by our friend Lars, who also happens to be an organic chicken farmer, and when we arrived on Sunday evening with a grocery bag full of ingredients and cooking oil, Lars had the chicken ready to go--already cooked and marinated in hot wing sauce. The result was obnoxiously good. The frying warmed all of the ingredients, melting the blue cheese while keeping the carrots and celery still crispy, as in a buffalo wing chaser.





I've apparently haven't really stopped thinking about them since, because this summer, I mentioned it to my friend, pocket food afficianado and video maven Mackenzie Smith, who I met at the LongHouse Scholars Program. She brought them up again a few weeks ago, and last week I traveled to Brooklyn to whip up a batch while Mack filmed me (and my sous chef Justin). She put together this very fun little video on the new favorite snack! Kick it off.

Buffalo Chicken FRIED Pies from Mackenzie Smith on Vimeo.

Buffalo Chicken Fried Pies

Ingredients
Nothing in the House pie crust 
5 bone-in chicken thighs
All-purpose flour
Salt & pepper to taste
Oil for browning
1/2 bottle of Frank's RedHot sauce, plus more for dipping if desired
2 carrots, finely chopped
2 stalks celery, finely chopped
4 oz. blue cheese, crumbled
Blue cheese dressing, for dipping if desired

Directions
1. Prepare Nothing in the House pie crust as per the directions. Refrigerate while you prepare the chicken and other filling ingredients. 

2. Prepare the chicken. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. In a small baking dish, spread a thin layer of flour and season with salt and pepper. Coat chicken on all sides with the flour mixture. In a skillet, brown chicken with oil over medium heat. Transfer to a heavy baking dish and cover with hot sauce. Bake for 35-40 minutes until chicken is cooked through. Let cool completely before removing skin and shredding chicken with a fork. Set aside.

2. Once your filling is ready and pie dough has chilled for at least 1 hour, remove  from fridge and roll out onto a lightly dusted surface about 1/8 inch thick. Using a large biscuit cutter or top of a large mug or jar, cut circles out of the dough (you can make them as large or small as you like, just remember that the smaller the pie the less filling can fit inside). 

3. Mound chicken, vegetables, and blue cheese in the center of each circle--you'll want to aim for about 2 Tablespoons of filling total, but depending on how big your dough circles are you can use more or less. Remember it is better to under-stuff than over-stuff.

4. Moisten the edge of the pastry circle with your finger, then fold over the dough to form a half-moon shape. Press the edges together and flute with a fork to seal completely. Place the formed pies on a parchment paper covered baking dish and place in the freezer, at least 20 minutes and up to an hour.

5. Meanwhile, heat the oil (If you prefer to bake your pies, you can do so in an oven set at 375 degrees F for about 15-25 minutes). Pour at least 2 cups of canola oil (or 4 inches deep) into a deep and heavy saucepan. Insert a candy thermometer into the oil. Slowly heat on medium-low until the temperature reads 350 degrees F.

6. When the oil temperature reaches 350 degrees, gently lower one pie at a time into the heated oil and cook until golden brown (about 2 minutes per side).  Using a slotted spatula, transfer to a paper-towel lined plate. Repeat with the remaining pies.

7. Let pies cool slightly before serving, but they are best eaten when fresh and warm! Dip them in your favorite buffalo chicken wing sauce or blue cheese dressing and go team!

Big thanks to Mackenzie Smith for lending her many talents and vision to produce this video and photos. Mack is a Brooklyn-based multi-media producer and heritage cookbook editor and you can find more of her work here. Look out for a new food video project from her coming soon.

Photos and video by Mackenzie Smith

Related recipes:

Apple Fried Pies

Frito Pie

Spinach & Feta Fried Pies

Tomato, Bacon & Jalapeno Pie

Jenny McCoy's Fresh Fig Tartlets with Goat Cheese & Red Wine Syrup

This past Spring I wrote a blog series for the Southern Foodways Alliance called "Give Me Some Sugar" on Southern women pastry chefs. Among the list of talented women I spoke to were Virginian-turned-New Yorker Christina Tosi of Momofuku Milk Bar, Phoebe Lawless of Durham's Scratch Bakery, and Dolester Miles of Birmingham's Bottega, who recently wowed attendees at the SFA 2013 Symposium with her toasted cornmeal pound cake. One chef I sadly missed is Jenny McCoy. Jenny comes from a long line of Alabama natives, and along with her work in pastry and teaching at the Institute of Culinary Education, she's also a writer, contributing to Serious Eats and The Huffington Post. She also just released a beautiful new cookbook Jenny McCoy's Desserts for Every Season.

The book is arranged seasonally, with the likes of Meyer Lemon and Pistachio Tarts and Moonshine Eggnog in the Winter, Rhubarb-Rose Water Crumble & Cherry Cola Sorbet in the Spring, and Peach and Sweet Corn Ice Cream Cake in the Summer. For Autumn, Jenny is sharing with us her Fresh Fig Tartlets with Goat Cheese & Red Wine Syrup. She says that the recipe came about when she was baking for the 10th Anniversary Celebration at Craft in New York City. When she and pastry chef Claudia Fleming couldn't agree on a dessert, they let guests create their own in a dessert buffet of tart shells, fillings, and fruits. Figs with goat cheese cream and red wine syrup was her favorite combination.

But as they say in Reading Rainbow, you don't have to take my word for it! Find that fig tart recipe below, and check out the cookbook, and Jenny's website and twitter here and here.

Peach Pie with a Sweet Basil Glaze

This morning, I went to church. It's something I rarely do, but today, Donna Schaper was up from the city and speaking at the one-room Presbyterian church here in Rensselaerville. From what Molly had told me about Donna's feminist ideals, involvement with Occupy, and the 29 books she's written, I wanted to hear her talk.

The sermon was about measurability and immeasurability and how they are not, in fact, opposites, but accomplices. She spoke of how both are useful;  that the measurable--how much we pay for something, how much salt we put in a recipe, or how much dosage of a medicine we are prescribed-- are necessary. But the immeasurable is what really matters-- what, when leading a moral or spiritual or religious life, is most important.

The sermon made me think of the pie baking lesson I gave this week. One of the LongHouse scholars, Sophia, had previously been through a pie making disaster the week before (though she is generally a wonder in the kitchen!) and asked me for help. So on Monday morning, we set up in Molly's blue kitchen, each with our own measuring cups, ingredients, and large mixing bowls. I gave Sophia the proportions of my pie crust recipe-- 2 cups flour, 1 1/2 sticks of butter, 1 tsp. salt... and we started measuring and mixing.

But I also showed her what a crust should look like-- how it should feel as it comes together in your hands, when it's too dry or too wet or overworked, and when it's just right. I showed her how to transfer the dough to the pan by curling it up around the rolling pin (a favorite trick) and how to adapt recipes for other fillings and pies to come. 

In this case, both measurable and immeasurable were important, but it is the unquantifiable that will help her to become a confident life-long baker who can tweak recipes and add her own creative touch. As I responded to her questions and considered the best way to explain what "cornmeal and peas" looks like, I also found myself learning how to be a better teacher, but not in a way you could measure with teaspoon or tablespoon, cup or ounce.

While I made a classic peach pie, Sophia added fresh blueberries to hers. We brushed a sweet basil glaze on both and enjoyed them with the rest of the scholars after a Southern-inspired dinner of ham, soup beans, greens, and slaw.

Peach Pie with a Sweet Basil Glaze
Adapted from The New York Times Heritage Cookbook

Ingredients
For the pie:
Nothing-in-the-House pie crust
6 c. fresh peaches, peeled and sliced
1 tsp. lemon juice
1/2 c. flour
2/3 c. brown sugar
1/4 tsp. fresh ginger, zested
1 tsp. salt
2 Tblsp. unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
Turbinado sugar, for dusting

For the glaze:
1 c. water
1 c. sugar
Handful fresh basil leaves

Directions
For the pie:
1. Prepare the Nothing-in-the-House pie crust as per the directions. Chill dough at least 1 hour. Once chilled, roll out 1/2 of pie crust and fit into a 9-inch greased and floured pie pan. You can choose to roll out the top-crust now and refrigerate it flat, or roll it out once you've prepared the filling. Either way, you should put both the remaining crust and the pie pan in the fridge while you prepare the filling. Reserve half-egg yolk for the egg wash.

2. Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. In a medium bowl, combine peaches, lemon juice, flour, brown sugar, ginger, and salt. Pour filling into the bottom crust. Dot the top of the filling with 2 Tblsp. butter

3. To make the lattice, lay 5-8 strips parallel across the pie and fold back every other strip. Weave the same number of strips perpendicular to the first strips, alternating over and under. Trim strips so that they leave a 1-inch overhang. Fold bottom crust over the lattice and tuck the excess under. Seal and flute edges decoratively. Brush lattice with the leftover egg and dust with Turbinado sugar.

4. Bake until crust is golden brown and filling is bubbling, approximately 40-45 minutes. Once done, remove from oven and let cool on a wire rack. Prepare sweet basil glaze, then brush on crust. Serve slightly warm with a scoop or two of vanilla ice cream.

For sweet basil glaze:
1. In a small saucepan, combine sugar, water, and basil. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Reduce heat to medium, and let simmer until syrup becomes thick and coats the back of a spoon. Let steep for 15-20 minutes, then brush on pie crust.

Related Recipes:

Peach-Pecan Pie

Peach-Bourbon-Ginger Hand Pies

Blueberry Hand Pies

For the past month, I've been working as the Director of the LongHouse Scholars Program, a food media internship in Rensselaerville, NY. My job is part curriculum developer, part camp counselor, part media editor, and part teacher. Mostly I've been setting up a lot of structure-- planning the weekly schedule, researching background for documentaries, and managing projects. In a way, I'm setting up the frame and canvas for the 9 scholars to paint within.

That role was also true, in a sense, for these blueberry hand pies. My coworker and LongHouse chef extraordinare Ame, asked me to make several batches of pie crust that we could freeze and use throughout the program. One night during dinner prep, two scholars, Thomas and Johnisha, used some of the dough to make dessert for the scholars and staff and our visiting guests-- Rod and Debra Smith of Smith Bites. Though I've sometimes missed being the one leading the creative direction, I've also learned that I love facilitating other's artistic work, whether you can eat it with ice cream or not.



Blueberry Hand Pies
Adapted from Bon Appetit

Ingredients
Nothing-in-the-House Pie Crust
4 c. (about 20 oz.) fresh blueberries
2 tsp. lemon zest
2 Tblsp. lemon juice
1/2 c. sugar
1/2 tsp. kosher salt
1 large egg, whisked with 1 tsp. heavy cream
2 Tblsp. Turbinado sugar, for sprinkling

Directions
1. Prepare Nothing-in-the-House pie crust as per the directions. Once chilled, roll out dough onto a floured surface and cut into 12 rectangles of equal size. Place rectangles on parchment paper on a cookie sheet and return to chill in the fridge while you prepare the filling.

2. Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. In a medium bowl, toss blueberries, lemon zest, lemon juice, sugar, and salt. Remove cut dough from fridge and mound blueberry mixture into the center of each rectangle. Brush edges of rectangles with water, fold dough over filling, and press edges with a fork to seal. Brush hand pies with egg wash, sprinkle with sugar, and cut a steam vent in the top of each.

3. On a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper, bake hand pies for 35-45 minutes, rotating cookie sheet half-way through. Filling will be bubbling and crust will be golden brown when done. Transfer pies to a wire rack and let cool. Serve warm or at room temperature with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

Related recipes:
Blueberry Icebox Pie
Peach Bourbon Ginger Hand Pies

Lemon-Hazelnut Tart

There's a place in the Hudson Valley where I like to go. It's on the river, just down the road from Bard College-- a stretch of rolling land with a sprawling old house in various states of repair and disrepair. There's a barn full of giant paper mâché puppets, a medicine wheel in the garden, and a small organic farm with chickens and geese and a flower labyrinth where you can pick-your-own bouquet. It's a place for summer square dances, fall cider pressing parties, any-season friend rendez-vous, and is a little haven of refuge for me and many other friends.

Rokeby is the family home of my friends Marina and Louis, and the sometimes home of their family's relatives and friends, tenants and guests. You never quite know what or who you'll encounter there-- Icelandic experimental musicians, Greatful Dead spin-off band lyricists, Episcopagan ministers.

Despite this element of uncertainty (or perhaps because of it), it's a place where I feel at home, welcomed by Marina and Louis and whoever else is there to sit around the table, help pick beans on the farm, or take a twighlight walk to the river. It's always a special treat when my visit coincides with Marina's mother Rosalind's and her partner Dominick's. We make jokes around the big white farm table in the back kitchen, and have political discussions, a round of Madlibs or Bananagrams, and are treated to Dominick's delicious (and sometimes odd and gelatin-filled) British cooking. I always learn something after a chat with Rosalind, and I always laugh. She has a delightful sense of humor and is also one of the biggest proponents of my pie-making, always dropping not-so-subtle hints and suggesting flavors for what I might bake next and generously offering herself as a taste tester.



Though I wasn't able to make it up to Rokeby for Rosalind's last birthday party, Marina signed her mother up for a Pie CSA as a gift, so though I couldn't be there, at least my pie could. Rosalind, like me, suffers from migraines, so abstains (not like me, though I probably should) from chocolate. Since I was shipping the share, I wanted to make something that could hold up in the mail and as it was for a birthday, I wanted something a little special. I settled on a Lemon-Hazelnut Tart adapted from Smith & Ratliff. I swapped out the corn syrup for brown rice syrup (Rosalind is a nutritionist, and I also try to avoid corn syrup when I can).

The recipe is just perfect. You can't really go wrong with hazelnuts, and the addition of lemon adds a tartness that nut pies are often missing. It also just blows open a whole new category of fruit and nut pies and tarts...I've already tried this with oranges instead of lemons, and you could really use any nut and citrus (or other fruit for that matter) combination. The recipe can also make 5-6 4-inch tartlets instead of a full 8-inch tart. I actually had some filling leftover and extra crust dough in the fridge, so I made a few for tasting purposes (see below).



Lemon-Hazelnut Tart

Filling adapted from Smith & Ratliff, Crust adapted from Dorie Greenspan

Ingredients
For crust:
1 1/2 c. flour
1/2 c. confectioner's sugar
1/2 tsp. salt  
9 Tblsp. unsalted butter, cold & cubed  
1 egg yolk

For filling:

6 Tblsp. unsalted butter, melted

2 large eggs

3/4 c. light brown sugar
, packed
1/2 c. brown rice syrup

1/4 c. lemon syrup (1 lemon + 1/2 c. sugar)

1 tsp. fresh lemon juice

2 tsp. vanilla extract

1/4 tsp. salt

1 Tblsp. flour

2 c. hazelnuts, toasted, peeled and chopped

Directions
For crust:
1. Combine flour, sugar, and salt in the bowl of a food processor and pulse to combine. Add the cubed butter and pulse to incorporate until the mixture resembles cornmeal and peas. Add the egg yolk and pulse until the dough begins to form together. 

2. Roll out the dough and pat it into your greased and floured tart pan. Freeze the tart shell for about 30 minutes while you prepare the filling. Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 425 degrees F. 

For filling:

1. First, prepare the lemon syrup by placing 1 c. water and 1/2 c. sugar in a medium saucepan and bringing to a boil over medium heat. Add 1 thinly sliced lemon, and let simmer for about 10 minutes until thick. Remove from heat and strain the syrup into a small bowl, reserving 7-8 of the lemon slices. Let cool.

2. Meanwhile, in a large bowl mix all the remaining ingredients, except for the hazelnuts. Spread the hazelnuts into the frozen tart shell and pour into the filling. Gently place the reserved lemon slices on top of the hazelnut filling.

3. Lower oven temperature to 325 degrees F and bake tart until the crust is golden and the filling is set, about 1 hour. Let cool on a rack and serve warm or at room temperature.

Maple Bourbon Buttermilk Pie with Apple Syrup

"Those are the three main old-timey ingredients!," Brent remarked, when I told him I was making a maple bourbon buttermilk pie. Kind of true. And on top of that, it's an ingredient fusion of North and South.

Though buttermilk pie (a plain version here) is generally credited as a Southern pie, it is also prevalent in Yankee traditional cooking and baking. That's mainly because on dairy farms and in farming communities, buttermilk was cheap and readily available, the liquid left behind when butter is made. Today though, most commercial buttermilk is not real. It's made from low-fat or skim-milk that's mixed with bacterial cultures to make it sour, and other additives to make it thick. As you might guess, this artificially-produced buttermilk doesn't taste as good as the real deal. According to Julia Moskin of The New York Times, "Many home cooks keep buttermilk on hand for pancakes, ranch dressing or corn bread. They might know that it makes more tender cakes (because it softens the gluten in flour), loftier biscuits (its acid boosts leaveners like baking soda and baking powder) and thicker dressings (lactic acid in buttermilk gently curdles proteins into a smooth mass)." Now you see why you might want to use the real stuff in a pie?

Classic buttermilk pie is essentially a custard pie (or custy pie), with an extra tang. It's also related to Chess pie--some Chess pie even calls for buttermilk. For this version, adapted from 101 Cookbooks, throw in a dash of bourbon, the barrel-aged whiskey from Kentucky, and maple syrup, the prized natural of many New England states (when I lived in Vermont I learned to put it in everything), and you've got yourself something fit for a table on either side of the Mason-Dixon line.

Maple Bourbon Buttermilk Pie

Adapted from 101 Cookbooks

Ingredients

Nothing-in-the-House pie crust, halved (I used 1/2 white whole wheat flour and 1/2 all-purpose)

Zest of 1 lemon

2 Tblsp. brown sugar

6 egg yolks

1/4 c. flour

2/3 c. maple syrup (preferably Grade B)

2 c. real buttermilk

1 tsp. vanilla extract

1 Tblsp. bourbon (I used Maker's Mark)

scant 1/2 tsp. fine grain sea salt

Large grain sugar or pink salt for sprinkling (optional)

Directions

1. Prepare half of the Nothing-in-the-House pie crust as per the directions. Chill dough at least 1 hour before rolling out and fitting into a greased and floured 9-inch pie pan. Place the pan in the fridge while you prepare the filling.

2. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F. In a medium bowl, whisk together lemon zest, brown sugar, egg yolks, and flour until no lumps remain. Pour in the maple syrup and stir to combine. Then add buttermilk, vanilla, and sea salt, stirring until incorporated.

3. Pour filling into the pie crust and bake about 1 hour, or until filling is set and not wobbly. Remove from oven and let cool, then sprinkle with sugar or salt (I chose salt, surprise surprise). Serve slightly chilled or at room temperature with apple syrup (recipe below). Store in the fridge.

To even it up even more (buttermilk pie is still claimed as Southern, after all), I drizzled a few slices with apple syrup that my friend Marina made on her farm in New York's Hudson Valley. I believe she even pressed the apples herself. Here's the recipe she shared...

Apple Syrup

From my friend Marina of Shoving Leopard Farm

Makes 1 c. apple syrup

Ingredients

7 c. apple cider

Directions

1. Marina makes her apple syrup in the shallow maple syrup pans they have on her farm, but you can make yours in a Dutch oven or large stock pot. Pour your cider into the pot and bring to just a boil (cider boils at about 219 degrees F). 

2. Once boiling, reduce heat to medium-low and let simmer until cider has reduced to about 1 cup, and reached a syrup-like consistence, thickly coating the back of the spoon. You can do this with more or less cider, but in general 7 parts cider yields 1 part syrup. 

An Interview with Emily and Melissa Elsen of Four & Twenty Blackbirds

I've been longing to make it to Four & Twenty Blackbirds, the Brooklyn sister-owned pie shop credited with salty honey, salted caramel apple and chamomile buttermilk pies that have cast their spell on me from afar. In addition to these creative- classic pies, their slightly sinister nursery rhyme-based name and affinity for bikes, I thought they might be gals after my own heart--indeed, one of the sisters and I share both a first and middle name (Emily Elizabeth à la Dickinson, or the heroine of Clifford the Big Red Dog). Since I wasn't sure when I'd make it to New York next, I asked the pair for an interview and to share a pie recipe. Here's their words, along with instructions for a quintessential spring-summer pie--rhubarb, Four and Twenty Blackbirds style! (Emily (L) & Melissa (R) Elsen of Four and Twenty Blackbirds, pictured below)

The inspiration for your shop name comes from the nursery rhyme (I assume). Could you tell me why you chose it?

Sing a Song of Sixpence is the inspiration for the name. A close friend of our family had suggested we look to nursery rhymes for naming inspiration - it's all over the place in many of those rhymes. We wanted a name that had some familiarity and association with pie, but that wasn't too obvious or cute. We liked the light and dark aspects of the rhyme and macabre humor.

What is your most treasured/used pie baking tool?

Emily: I like a solid and well balanced tapered rolling pin for rolling dough.

What's your favorite kind of pie?

Emily: Any pie that is made with fresh, in-season fruit - particularly stone fruits and figs, and rhubarb of course.

What's your baking story--how long have you been doing it, who taught you and how did you learn? Any funny stories from those first (or later?) baking experiments?

We grew up in Hecla, South Dakota where our mother owned and operated a local family restaurant with her two sisters, our grandmother Liz baked all the pies and we worked there as soon as we were big enough to wash a dish! We both went in different directions for college - I came to Brooklyn to study art and Melissa studied finance and then traveled New Zealand and Australia for a couple years. We reunited in Brooklyn and started baking together and realized that we had the potential to make it a real business. At the time, it was hard to find good fresh pie in NYC on a regular basis and we wanted to make a place that was devoted to it because we loved making it and eating it of course!

Why pie?

We love the simplicity of it, and yet it has so many creative possibilities - we felt we could do something new with it. Also, I'm particularly attracted to it as a sculptural baked good - pie crust is fun to work with once you get to know its ins and outs.

It seems like you guys are really into bikes too. Is there any kind of bike-pie connection? Pie racks on your bikes for easy transportation?

We are both really into bikes for transportation and distance riding for exercise - we live close to Prospect Park which is great for cycling laps, and doing a distance ride up the West Side highway and into Jersey is one of my favorite ways to spend an afternoon. We have a lock and pump at the store that we let customers use and we sell tubes and patch kits as well. We are not bike racers, but we love the bike community in Brooklyn which is growing every day. No pie bike racks yet, but we'd love to do bike delivery one day!

What's it like working with your sister?

Emily: For me, my sister is the perfect business partner. We are very different personalities, so we balance each other - and we are close enough in age that we like doing the same things and our interests align well. It's not without difficulties, arguments and such, but she is the one person I truly trust to have my back, though I know I drive her crazy sometimes.  

What's your favorite music to listen to while you're in the kitchen?

I'll listen to (almost) anything and I'm always changing it up... lately I've been getting into older reggae, and some newer stuff, as well as a lot of hip hop. I like good rhythm when I work.  

Any words of advice for new or aspiring pie bakers?

Be prepared to work hard in this industry and be in love with what you are doing, keep a positive attitude and always be curious to learn more.

Four & Twenty Blackbirds Rhubarb Pie

By Melissa & Emily Elsen

For all-butter pie crust
2½ cups unbleached all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon sugar
2 sticks cold unsalted butter, cut into half-inch pieces
1 cup cold water and 1/8th cup cider vinegar on ice

What to do:  
1. Stir flour, salt and sugar together in a large bowl.

2. Add butter and coat it with flour using a spatula or bench scraper. Working quickly, cut butter into the flour with a pastry blender until mostly pea-sized pieces of butter remain (a few larger pieces are okay; do not over-blend).

3. Sprinkle four tablespoons ice water over the flour mixture and cut the water in with a spatula or bench scraper. When water is fully incorporated, add more water, one to two tablespoons at a time, and mix until the dough comes together in a ball, with some dry bits remaining.

4. Squeeze and pinch with your fingertips to bring all the dough together, sprinkling dry bits with drops of ice water if necessary to combine.

5. Shape into a flat disc, wrap in plastic and refrigerate for at least an hour, preferably overnight. Wrapped tightly, dough can be refrigerated for 3 days or frozen for one month.

6. Roll out to fit the bottom of the rectangle pan, just to the edges, not over. Use the scrap to create about 20-25 lattice pieces to fit the pan width and length. 

For rhubarb filling

Combine in a large bowl:

4 to 6 cups rhubarb that has been chopped, frozen overnight and then thawed and drained of excess liquid (freezing helps to release excess water in the Rhubarb)

3 tablespoons lemon juice

6 dashes of old fashioned or Angosturra bitters

3 whole eggs, beaten

In a separate bowl, sift together:

3 cups sugar

1 teaspoon ground allspice

1/2 teaspoon ground ginger

1/4 teaspoon ground cloves

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon salt

5 Tablespoons arrowroot (or cornstarch if you can't find arrowroot)

Combine the wet ingredients with the dry. Scoop into pie shell, with most of the liquid - but do not make the pie too watery, the Rhubarb should be just slightly covered in the liquid. Arrange lattice on top, crimp edges in. 

For egg wash + baking

Beat together:

1 whole egg

2 Tablespoons heavy cream or milk

1. Brush the top of the lattice with the egg wash and sprinkle with raw (or demerara) sugar. Bake on a half sheet pan at 350F for 30 minutes, rotate and bake for another  30 - 40 minutes - depends on oven strength. Look for a golden brown color in the crust, and for the filind to be set and bubbling over, not watery looking. Be sure to let the pie cool for at least an hour before slicing and serving. 

Thanks so much to Emily & Melissa Elsen for their time and generosity with words, photos, and recipes. After this teaser I'd better get to Brooklyn to try a slice o' Four and Twenty Blackbirds pie soon.

Pie Charts for Actual Pie

If you know me, you know that I love maps and charts. My friends in Burlington, Vermont and I started a Map Club (which was usually followed by a Nap Club), where we shared and made all sorts of maps--Sound Maps of the Hudson River, Maps of Shaker villages, and memory maps of our old neighborhoods. I also curated a "Map Edition" of our old collaborative literary journal/zine The Dovetail Collective and cite this book as one of my all-time favorites.

So of course I was jazzed when a fellow pie fan shared this pie chart poster by innovative Brooklyn chart makers Pop Chart Lab. Their mission as a company is to "render all of human experience in chart form," and of course, pie is a crucial part of (at least MY) human experience. Their Pie Charts: A Baker's Dozen depicts, in pie chart form, accurate ingredient portions of a baker's dozen of classic pies. You can check it out (and purchase it for yourself--it's on sale!) here. As they say at Pop Chart, "data meets design meets delicious."

Montgomery Place Orchards

I spent this past weekend at one of my favorite places in the world for my friends Marina and Louis' wedding at Rokeby in the Hudson River Valley (HRV) of New York. Whenever I'm there, we almost always stop at the Montgomery Place Orchard farm stand for some of Doug and Talea's fresh apples, pears, berries, veggies and more, and more often then not, I bake a pie (or six) from what I find there.

The stand holds an annual pie contest, this year on October 15-- next weekend! My visit has never coincided with the contest, but someday I hope to enter.

One of the best things about Montgomery Place Orchards is that they grow and sell my favorite baking apple-- the Northern Spy. When I was growing up we used to get them at Eberly's Orchard in North Liberty, IN, though they only had one tree left, as Spies are difficult to grow and aren't cosmetically perfect. They seemed to have made a comeback, though, among heirloom growers, and pie bakers are thankful for it.

I also like to pick up a jar of Doug and Talea's delicious farm-pressed "Annandale Atomic Hard Cider". It's the perfect thing to sip as you roll out dough, slice apples, and flute crusts.

This visit I made 6 pies/tarts for the wedding...2 apple-ginger double crust pies, 3 apple tarts with homemade apple butter, and one pear tarte tatin. Stay tuned for wedding pie pics...