The Anthropology of Pie in Sift Magazine

Earlier this year, I was given the dream assignment of writing "The Anthropology of Pie" for the fall issue of King Arthur Flour's baking magazine Sift. As I could write chapters on the subject (and maybe some day I will), I decided to zoom in on historical moments where pie has displayed its economy, ingenuity, and scrappiness to reinvent itself in contexts both urban and rural; commercial and domestic; individual, and communal.

Sift also included four of my pie recipes (three original, one adapted from the excellent First Prize Pies by Allison Kave), all of which first appeared on the blog: Cranberry Chocolate Chess Pie, Passion Fruit Meringue Pie with Macadamia Crust, Delicata Squash Pie (from the early days!), and Bourbon Ginger Pecan Pie.

Thank you to the kind folks at King Arthur flour, especially editor Susan Reid, photographer Mark Weinberg, and stylist Erin McDowell for making my pies and words look so good. Sift is available online and in many book and grocery stores around the country.

Photos via King Arthur Flour

The Oxford Companion to Sugar and Sweets

It was a thrill and such an honor to be among the 265 contributors to The Oxford Companion to Sugar and Sweets-- a new resource compendium from Oxford University Press. Many of those involved are among my food writer heroines, not to mention Darra Goldstein (!) the founding editor of Gastronomica and a personal role model in how she's been successful in two seemingly disparate (but certainly connected) fields-- academia and food + cookbook writing.

While "pie" was already taken, I was assigned Oreos, Nutella, and cotton candy-- fun topics to research and write about. Perhaps the most interesting factoid I discovered is that Nutella was not necessarily invented for the kismet that is the chocolate-hazelnut combination, but out of reasons of economy-- a thriftiness dating back to the Napoleonic Wars when Napoleon issued Continental Blockade. That caused the price of chocolate to skyrocket, so Italian chocolatiers began pairing it with chopped hazelnuts, which were abundant in the area, to stretch the supply. A similar rationing occurred during WWII, when Pietro Ferrero turned to the combination. Originally called pasta gianduja after the classic Piedmontese carnival character, it was renamed Nutella in 1964.

As for Oreos, the mystery involving the name is of note-- Nabisco invented it, but even the company itself does not cite a definitive story. Some sources speculate it derives from the French word for gold, or-- plausible, as the cookie's name was printed in gold lettering on the original package. Others, somewhat less convincingly postulate Oreo comes from the Greek oros, meaning mountain, claiming that the original cookies were mound-shaped. Whatever the history, I will say it was fun to do some "research" in the grocery store cookie aisle, scouting new Oreo varieties-- Birthday Cake, Banana Split Crème, and the Limited Edition Ice Cream Rainbow Shure Bert! among them.

Cotton candy was somewhat new territory for me, as I wasn't allowed to have the stuff when I was a kid, so have no real reference point or nostalgic leanings for it. Nonetheless, it has a fascinating history dating back to the 16th century, when its precursor, spun sugar, was used as adornment for sweet meats as well as sculptural desserts. Ironically (or maybe not so, as overconsumption of any confection would surely bring in the patients), cotton candy as we know it today was invented by two dentists, one in Nashville, and another in New Orleans.

As a whole Sugar and Sweets is a magnificent tome, filling 900 pages of detailed reference material on all things sweet, from sugar addiction to Iranian zalabiya, sweetness from the perspective of animals (turns out cats sadly don't experience the taste of sweet), music, religion, and sexual innuendo, Kara Walker to Lemonheads. It's an indispensable resource for any baker, food writer, historian, or just someone with a sweet tooth. It's certainly going to be my first reference stop when investigating any baked goods from here on out.

Related recipes:
Grasshopper Pie
Nutella Icebox Pie
Speculoos Icebox Pie

Nothing in the House on Food & Wine

It was such a delightful surprise when I got an e-mail from writer Kristin Donnelly, asking to feature Nothing in the House in Food & Wine's Blogger Spotlight! Our interview-- about pie's duality as both transcendent symbol and humble dish, sources and tips for working with vintage recipes, and essential baking tools--ran last week and can be found here.

Thanks so much to Kristin, Jennifer, and everyone else at Food & Wine--I'm flattered to be included and really enjoyed the opportunity to put down some thoughts on these questions. Another big thanks is in order to my friend Elena of Biscuits & Such, who tipped them off to me (check out her feature here).

Photo by Jess Schreibstein of Witchin' in the Kitchen

"Old Fashioned" Peach Blackberry Pie for The Joy of Cooking

The Joy of Cooking was one of the first cookbooks I learned to bake from growing up, so I was thrilled and rather honored when Megan Scott, 4th generation writer and baker in the Joy family, asked me to write a guest post for The Joy of Cooking blog.

Finding myself in Kentucky for the month of July, living in a house surrounded by blackberry bushes, I worked up this "Old Fashioned" (as in bourbon & bitters) Peach Blackberry Pie. To accompany the recipe, I wrote a little about the connection between pie and place, and the ways we ground ourselves in new environments.

You can find it all on The Joy blog here, and stay tuned next week, when Megan will share a guest post and recipe with Nothing in the House.

Related recipes:
Peach-Blackberry Cobbler
Peach-Pecan Pie
Peach Pie with a Sweet Basil Glaze

Curtains for NPR Kitchen Window

Bang Bang Pie's Shaker Lemon Pie from Outside the Pizza Box: Chicago's New Pie Scene

I came back from the woods to the sad news that NPR's Kitchen Window had folded. The blog, which was edited by Bonny Wolf and featured weekly stories and related recipes, was not only a great writing outlet for me, but it was something I looked forward to every week. With its illuminating pieces by respected food writers on a single theme, highlighting a specific ingredient, or exploring traditional foodways, it was a trusted source of great food writing and great recipes. I'm going to miss it (though I'm glad to still be able to work with Bonny via her excellent site, American Food Roots). 

Fig-Pistachio Tarte Tatin from The Pies of Late Summer

In celebration and a bit of mourning over the end of Kitchen Window, here's a little round-up of some of the stories and photos I did for them. Don't stop there though--the Kitchen Window archive remains alive, and there you can find an examination on sorghum's move into the mainstream, a collection of recipes from Tasmania, a meditation on a meal celebrating early African-American cookbook authors, and much more. I hope it remains up in perpetuity.


Beignets from Fat Tuesday: The Many Different Doughnuts of Mardi Gras

Speculoos Icebox Pie from Belgian Sweets Not Just for 'Sinterklaas'

Peppermint Pattie Tart from Get Freshly Minted This Holiday Season

Blueberry Buckle from Cobbled Together: American Fruit Desserts

The Friday Pie Slice

1st slice. It was so much fun to be a part of the DREAM TEAM with Elizabeth Graeber and Morgan Hungerford West to put together this Design*Sponge guide to 24 Hours in D.C. Big thanks to the Design*Sponge gals, and to Refinery29 for sharing it.

2nd slice. My friend, talented writer and fellow "pie lady" Kate Lebo has her smart and provocative "The Pie Lady's Manifesto" up at The Rumpus. Bakers, feminists, everyone should read it.

3rd slice. I've been getting in on the Food52 #f52grams fun lately (here and here). Look out for their new theme each week and post a corresponding instagram with hasthtag #f52grams. They might just share your photo.

The tasty crumbs. And speaking of instagram, my pal Jess of Witchin' in the Kitchen was recently featured on the instagram blog. Check out the lovely post and her beautiful and serene photos here.

Past Friday Pie Slices.

Photo by Kate Lebo via The Rumpus

Convenience Store Treats & Gas Station Pie

The latest issue of DC's food zine The Runcible Spoon is on the cheap. Yes, it is relatively low in cost, but inside you'll also find odes to freegans, a tutorial on how to make a meal out of Whole Food samples, and a budget eating advice column. I contributed a few stories to the issue, one (pictured above) on selected regional convenience store treats of the Eastern United States, a cultural history of porridge through place and time with illustrations by Elizabeth Graeber (see it here), and a cheeky little guide (below) on how to use your creativity, gumption, and the ingredients at your disposable to make pie *inside* a gas station. The Runcible Spoon is always so much fun to write for and read, and this one was particularly so--pick up a copy online or find it at various local stores around D.C.

Related post:
Cracker Pie a.k.a. Mock Apple Pie
Lardass Returns in The Runcible Spoon Swimsuit Issue!

Four and Twenty Blackbirds Pie on The Hairpin!

Last month, for National Pie Day (not to be confused with International Pi(e) Day, coming in March), Elizabeth and I had a piece on one of my most favorite sites on the interwebs, The Hairpin! It's an illustrated history of the fabled "4 and 20 Blackbirds Pie" which appears in the Mother Goose rhyme Sing a Song of Sixpence. This piece, which features some of my mose favorite illustrations from Elizabeth yet (those blackbirds!), was also the reason that I made that rather odd Stargazy Quail Pie (so THAT explains it!). You can visit the original post on The Hairpin, and read all the lovely and funny (and spam, unfortunately) comments here, but it's also posted below (though sans comments), in case you don't want your web surfing experience to turn into a "diverting Hurley-Burley".

Though there are a few days that claim to be THE “Day of Pie”-- the U.S. House of Representatives recognized “Pi Day” on March 14th, and a second somewhat dubiously decreed “National Pie Day” on December 1st, according to the American Pie Council, today, January 23rd is the actual “National Pie Day.” It was probably chosen so that people have at least one thing to look forward to after the pie-promises of Thanksgiving and Christmas have faded, and you’re left cold and hungry in the depths of mid-winter.

In honor, of this, we present an illustrated investigation and recipe of the legendary 4 and 20 Blackbirds Pie.

We all know the nursery rhyme, Sing A Song of Sixpence, from the classic Mother Goose. This is the first verse of the rhyme as it first appeared in print in the mid-1700s.

Sing a Song of Sixpence,
A bag full of Rye,
Four and twenty
Naughty boys,
Bak’d in a Pye.

In its subsequent publication in 1780, these additional verses were added and the “naughty boys” were replaced by blackbirds.

When the pie was opened,
The birds began to sing;
Was not that a dainty dish,
To set before the king?

The king was in his counting-house,
Counting out his money;
The queen was in the parlor,
Eating bread and honey.

The maid was in the garden,
Hanging out the clothes;
There came a blackbird
And snapped off her nose.

It’s entirely unclear how those twenty-four devious boys all turned themselves into blackbirds, but one cannot know the ways of the devil. We do know that somehow they managed to and are thus transformed for the rest of all history. Though “four and twenty” may seem a random number to us now, it is actually the most frequently appearing number in Mother Goose, representing, perhaps the 24 hours in a day, or a double dozen, 12 being a fabled number in religion and mythology. “A bag full [of Rye]” may have been an actual culinary measurement, like the teaspoon and tablespoon of today. And though there’s no rye mentioned, blackbirds inside a pie could be a reference to this recipe containing live birds, from the 1549 Italian cookbook Epulario or The Italian Banquet by Giovanni de Roselli, translated into English in 1598.

TO MAKE PIE THAT THE BIRDS MAY BE ALIVE IN THEM, AND FLIE OUT WHEN IT IS CUT UP

Make the coffin of a great Pie or pasty. in the bottome whereof make a hole as big as your fist, or bigger if you will. let the sides of the coffin be some what higher then ordinary Pie, which dome. put is full of flower and bake it, and being baked, open the hole in the bottome and take out the flower [flour]. then having a Pie of the bignesse of the hole in the bottome of the coffin aforesaid. you shal put it into the coffin, withall put into the said coffin round about the aforesaid pie as many small live birds as the empty coffin will hold besides the pie aforesaid. And this is to be done at such time as you send the Pie to the table, and set before the guests: where uncovering or cutting up the lid of the great Pie, all the Birds will flie out. which is to the delight and pleasure shew to the company and because they shall not bee altogether mocked, you shall cut open the small pie and in this sort tart you may make many others, the like you may do with a Tart.

This type of surprise pie, or coffin, as they were called, was likely actually made, being related to a genre of Medieval food called solteties, which used illusions in sugar (sound familiar?) and other stunts to impress guests. The live bird pie is later referred to in 1723 by John Nott, cook to the Duke of Bolton, as an antiquated practice with the aim that the birds in flight would extinguish the candles lighting the dining hall and create “a diverting Hurley-Burley amongst the Guests in the Dark”!

Though this sort of wild Hurley-Burley sounds like the makings for a perfect Saturday night, it may not currently be culturally acceptable to insert small life birds into desserts as aforesaid. In lieu of sending you on a wild pigeon chase, here are some ways you can put a bird on it in the modern day:

-DO use a pie bird! A ceramic funnel, usually in the shape of a bird, which you insert in the middle of a pie to let steam and juices escape.

-DO create birds out of paper or modeling clay, attach them to skewers and insert them into the pie.

-DO cut bird silhouettes out of paper and place them on the pie crust, then dust the entire crust with powdered sugar, letting only the bird shapes remain un-sugared.

-DO (If you dare) make a Stargazy Quail Pie! Recipe here. WARNING: Not for vegetarians or the faint of heart.

-DON’T mold blackbirds out of pie crust dough and bake them in the pie. You will end up with deranged Calvin and Hobbes snowmen-type figures (the 24 naughty boys return!) when the butter melts. Believe me, I’ve tried.

Sources: The Annotated Mother Goose by William Baring-Gould via the American Folklife Center

The Life of Pie on American Food Roots

Have you visited American Food Roots yet? If not you should (and the Washington Post thinks so too). It’s a superb new food site by a team of four talented and seasoned food journalists Carol Guensburg, Michele Kayal, Domenica Marchetti, and the editor of NPR’s Kitchen Window Bonny Wolf. As a folklorist and home baker, it’s a dream come true, as it explores what we eat, why we eat it, and what that says about our identity, our place, and American society at large. There you'll find profiles on the likes of farmers and producers like Lee Calhoun, a North Carolina heirloom apple orchardist and author of Old Southern Apples, articles such as the one on the University of Michigan Culinary Archive and its curator Jan Longone, and recipes old and new, for delights like milk punch, a Ben Franklin favorite drink currently enjoying a comeback.  I’m excited to see this project continue to grow, and I hope to be a little part of it as it does.

For last month's launch I was honored to contribute a piece, The Life of Pie, on the ritual of pie making. It is that ritual--the process and connection to others that it entails, that is the main reason I like baking pie, and making and thinking and writing about food in general. These themes combine my personal and academic interests, and help me to envision myself as part of a community of bakers and home cooks and writers, past and present, instead of just a lone gal in the kitchen or at my computer screen.  The piece also features a recipe for Chocolate Chess Pie and a fun illustration by Elizabeth Graeber from our Pie Amanac of a Nothing-in-the-House Blueberry Icebox Pie.

Congratulations to the women of American Food Roots, for their launch, recent press, and promising future. Check out their site, follow them on Facebook and Twitter, and enjoy the food and the stories behind them.

Belgian Holiday Treats on NPR

I'm back home again in Indiana. I got in last night to my family jumping up and down (mostly mom), a blazing fire in the fireplace and A Christmas Story (which is set in Northern Indiana, the elementary school looking uncannily similar to my brother's and mine) on the television. Tonight we had a little music party with old family friends; my parents made beef chalupa, I made pimento cheese and pie and homemade peppermint patties (gotta keep it alliterative), and we all chipped in on cheese and veggie plates.

But I haven't seen my grandmother yet. Tomorrow, though, for Christmas Eve, she'll come over with tins full of sugar cookies and pizzelles and speculaas, and probably try to clean the kitchen until we make her sit down on the couch and tell me stories about the Christmases of her childhood. A few weeks ago on NPR's Kitchen Window, I shared some stories of my hers and my own, of our Sinterklaas celebrations, a transplanted tradition from her Belgian and French heritage.

In the piece, you'll find recipes for the Belgian windmill cookies--speculaas (or speculoos)--that were ever-present in my grandmother's cookie jar, oliebollen-- a Dutch/Belgian apple doughnut, lukken--a Belgian waffle cookie typically enjoyed on New Year's, and Speculoos pie--made from speculoos cookie butter and featured here previously. Though Sinterklaas is a few weeks gone by, these treats would make excellent additions to your own music parties, fireside chats, or other holiday traditions, new or old. You can find the whole story and the recipes here. Many thanks to Sebastiaan Zijp, Victoria Lau of Ice Cream Jubilee, my Belgian relatives, editor Bonny Wolf, and my wonderful grandmother Georgette Harding for their generous help with the story.

Five Holiday Pies on PBS Food

I was very excited when the writers of PBS Food asked if I would contribute a piece. All those years developing my part-Julia Child part-Mrs. Doubtfire cooking show host alter-ego Emily Pothole (pronounced poth-ole) finally paid off! Their request though, however unfortunately, was not for a prime-time TV spot between Martha Stewart and Mark Bittman, but instead for a written piece on their blog, to accompany their other "Five Ideas" holiday features. Though ENJOYING LIFE with Emily Pothole and Ms. Amanda Deitermeyer will have to be put on the back burner (so to speak), I was happy to oblige.

Five Ideas for Holiday Pies, though nothing especially new for Nothing-in-the-House readers, is a round-up of some of my favorite mostly seasonal and rather simple pie recipes for your winter celebration.  Check it out for blurbs on Shaker Orange Tarts, Bittersweet Chocolate Pecan Pie, a Cranberry Lime Galette, Nutella Pie, and Apple Pie with Salted Caramel Glaze. And stay right here for all the recipes.

The Pies of Late Summer on NPR

A few months ago I called my ever-inspiring and resourceful thesis advisor and mentor Marcie Ferris for a catch-up and some career advice. In loading me up with contacts, ideas, and encouragement, she said she'd put me in touch with her good friend in DC, Bonny Wolf, a food writer editor of NPR's Kitchen Window, and as I would find, role model and kindred spirit.

We met for lunch, where we shared our backgrounds, foodways interests, and projects, and I was delighted when she asked me to contribute a story to Kitchen Window. I decided to write it on the seasonal pies of the late summer season. The piece came out last Wednesday, with some really great feedback from readers! (It was the third most e-mailed piece of the day before the naked Prince Harry story came out).  If you're a follower of the blog, the recipes and photos for Nothing-in-the-House pie crust, a fig-pistachio tarte tatin, plum & orange flower custard galette, and peach-pecan pie may be familiar to you. If not, now there are two places to find them!

Thanks very much to Bonny for being a wonderful editor and to Marcie for putting us in touch and for generous support, as always. And do follow Kitchen Window--it's a superb site with excellent recipes and corresponding personal food narratives. I'll probably be contributing another piece in late fall/early winter, though this one may not be about pies--branchin' out!

Also, hello to all the new readers and followers who found Nothing-in-the-House via the NPR piece! Thanks for checking out the pie blog and feel free to get in touch if you have any comments, pie stories, or questions. You can also find us on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and check out our Nothing-in-the-House Baking Co. (featuring a new fall pie CSA for those in DC!).

All Around the Mulberry Tree

It was a big week for me and my writerly pursuits. Both pieces I have been working on came out within two days of each other. The first one, for The Hairpin, was a quippy real-life rom-com about dating a Civil War reenactor. Aside from a hardtack reference and a somewhat era-appropriate supper description, it really has nothing to do with food. The second though, "The Mulberry's the Worst Berry There Ever Was" for Gilt Taste (with its wonder editor Francis Lam), is an ode to the little pesky berry that launched this whole pie making obsession and is essentially responsible for the existence of this here blog.

As I've talked a bit about before in Why I Like Pie, and as you'll read in the Gilt Taste piece, I started baking pies the summer after graduating college. I was discovering all these mulberry trees (and some black raspberry bushes) all over Ann Arbor, and used the free fruit to fill as many pies as I could make, often with other gal pals baking right along side me. When I moved to Vermont after that summer, my friend Margaret suggested we start a pie blog so we could still stay in touch via our baking endeavors. Et puis, voila.

I had such a nostalgia for mulberries, that it wasn't until I heard this recording, from the Coal River Project of the American Folklife Center (after scouring the Library of Congress archive for "mulberry" content) that I started to question their merits. Despite their drawbacks though, my feelings for the fruit remain, as do all the things that the mulberry set in motion. Here's a little musical ode to it that I came across in that mulberry search. It's a little torchy and a little cheesy, but somehow that feels right.