Strawberry Rhubarb Pie (Revised)

It’s practically summertime, baby. I know because there was a strawberry rhubarb pie in my life last week and because I’m headed to Maine today to splash in the lake, read books in the hammock, play Yahtzee with Joey, and obliterate my parents at Chinese checkers over lobster rolls and cola: two sure signs that the season of swimming holes and cookouts is well on its way. Even though the Internet has been ablaze with tales of rhubarb for weeks if not months now, I only just got my hands on some pieplant (check it!) to make the real-deal pie mascot of early summer. Like I mentioned last week, the food tales from ye all bloggers had me really ramped up to make fool or custard or curd, but the market strawberries and my own seasonal rituals were just too persuasive to take on anything but a classic.

And although it’s a pie that I reprise every year, it’s been awhile since I updated it on this here blog. Kind of fun to see the other strawberry rhubarb pie recipe, but it’s from way back when I was using vegetable shortening in my pie crusts and taking terrible photos (not that this post’s is all that much better). This pie recipe and my blog have both grown up some since then, and this latest iteration of the pie eliminated the cinnamon, ignored vanilla, forwent the lemon, and settled for a bit of orange and a more rhubarb-heavy fruit ratio. Classic pie, classic start to summer: cheers to a long, beautiful weekend spent with good friends, family, food, and hopefully your body partially submerged in a body of water somewhere.

All-Butter Pastry Dough

Makes enough for two crusts

2 sticks unsalted butter, very cold
1 cup ice water, divided
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon salt

1.  Start by cubing your butter into small, half-inch pieces.  Put these in the freezer while you ready the rest of the ingredients.  Measure one cup of water, add some ice cubes and set aside to chill.

2.  I use a food processor for my dough, but was for a long time making very nice crusts with a pastry blender--which are easier to control. Do your thang. Add all of your dry ingredients to the bowl of the processor, and pulse once or twice to blend the mixture. Sprinkle the cubes of butter over the top, and blend in pulses about 15 times, or until some pieces of butter are the size of hazelnuts, and the rest resembles oatmeal.

3.  Dump the mixture into a large, shallow bowl, and drizzle just a half-cup of the ice water (minus the cubes) over the top.  Using a rubber spatula, cut the moisture quickly into the dough, gathering it together as you do. If the dough is too dry, add more water 1 tablespoon at a time until the dough comes together in a shaggy mess. (I never use more than two or three additional tablespoons of water, and generally keep it to a half-cup anyway, but this all depends on the moisture and heat in your kitchen!) Knead the dough gently a few times to make it come together more, divide into two equal pieces, and wrap in plastic wrap.  Flatten into disks about five inches in diameter, and store in the fridge for at least an hour, preferably longer.

Pie Filling
4 cups (about 1.5 pounds) rhubarb chopped into one-inch pieces if thick, or 1½-inch pieces if thin
3 cups strawberries (about 1 pound), hulled and halved
½ cup golden brown sugar
½ cup granulated sugar
¼ teaspoon fine-grain sea salt
¼ cup quick-cooking tapioca pearls
1 tablespoon fresh orange juice
1 egg
1 tablespoon large-grain sugar for sprinkling

1.  Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. On a well-floured surface, roll out one pie dough to a 13-inch circle. Gently fold into quarters to transfer to and unfold in a 10-inch pie plate. Place pie plate in the fridge while you assemble the filling.

2.  In a large bowl, gently mix fruit with the sugars, salt, tapioca, and orange juice. Spoon the filling into your bottom pie crust, mounding just a bit in the center, and put back into fridge to keep the crust from softening while you roll out and prepare the top crust.

3.  On a well-floured surface, roll out top crust to a 13-inch circle. For a lattice-top pie, or checkerboard as Joey calls it, cut the dough into strips that are ¾-inch to one inch wide. I prefer fat strips, so I cut mine into 11 one-inch strips. I am a visual learner and always have to look at photos when I make lattice-top pies (no shame!), so check this out for a picture tutorial. Place six parallel strips of crust cross your pie, leaving just a smidgen of space between each. Fold every other strip back on itself, and place one strip of crust perpendicular to these guys, meeting the strips where they fold. Unfold the folded strips. Now fold back the parallel strips that are underneath the perpendicular strip and fold them back, place another perpendicular strip across, unfold the folded strips, and repeat until your pie is latticed! Okay, again, you might want to see here for that photo tutorial.

4. Trim ends of dough strips if excessively long, and fold strip ends and bottom-crust overhang under. Fold in edges with your fingers or crimp with a fork to seal. Lightly beat egg in a small bowl, brush crust all over with the egg wash, and sprinkle the large-grain sugar on top. Put pie plate on top of a cookie sheet lined with foil, and bake in oven for 20 minutes. Then, reduce oven temperature to 350, and continue baking until crust is very golden and the filling is bubbly and thickened, another 35 to 45 minutes. Transfer pie to rack and cool completely, about two hours.

Chocolate Buckwheat Strawberry Cake

Y’all Internet friends have been so deep into the strawberries and rhubarb. Cardamom rhubarb fool. Sour cherry rhubarb jam. And some babes in California are already breaking out the apricot recipes? Put ‘em away, jerks! Your carefree riches are making my produce-impoverished life feel awfully drab. But, after weeks of wondering when my turn would come, I’m finally here with my pride intact to rejoin the springtime Internet with...this chocolate cake...that doesn’t really have a lot of strawberries in it. That’s cool though, don’t worry, it is totally worth your time and minimal efforts and will not disappoint you at all, especially if you bake by mood and it’s the least bit rainy or cool where you are. Or if in general you are a fan of things that taste good.

Last Saturday evening, Joey (Hume), Roomrunner, and the Dope Buddies (check it) played an inaugural show at the Coward Shoe building in Baltimore, Hume's new home and place of many good things to come. So out-of-town have been we though, and so missing every single Sunday farmers market and thus the spring fruits, that we drove an hour home at 4:30 a.m. after an intense and amazing night filled with broken glass and punches so that we could be lined up for berries and rhubarb when the farmers market rang its opening bell. “We” mostly means “I,” but Joey is a great sport and got a strawberry rhubarb pie and this chocolate cake out of it.

And the strawberry rhubarb pie was, in many ways, more impressive and appealing than this buckwheat chocolate cake, but I’m stuck on this. It’s a terrific low-key dessert, the strawberry flavor really shines, and buckwheat and fruit is such a natural and delicious pairing. There aren’t a lot of whole grains on this blog either, and I’m pumped to share something slightly new here. Plus it’s gluten-free! This might not be a rhubarb flambe or whatever, but check it out. I promise it’ll answer some of your fruity spring wanderings. 

Chocolate Buckwheat Strawberry Cake

Adapted significantly from Tartine Gourmande, via Smitten Kitchen

The original calls for bittersweet chocolate, more sugar, no berries, and a 9-inch pan (for a thinner cake), but take a gamble with me and try it this way. Even if bittersweet chocolate is like your religion, you might still enjoy this. Oh, and it's gluten-free!

Makes one eight-inch cake

7 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature, plus extra for buttering pan
3 ½ ounces semisweet chocolate
4 large eggs at room temperature
5 tablespoons + 1 tablespoon granulated or blond cane sugar (so, divided)
¼ teaspoon sea salt
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
¼ cup buckwheat flour
¼ cup (or 1 ounce) almond meal
6 ounces small strawberries, hulled and halved

Powdered sugar or whipped cream to serve (optional

1.  Preheat your oven to 350 degrees F. Butter an 8-inch cake round and line the bottom with parchment paper; butter the parchment round as well. Melt the butter and chocolate together in a double-boiler or a heatproof bowl resting on a pot of lightly simmering water, and set aside to cool.

2.  In the bowl of a stand mixer (thanks Emily’s mom!), beat the eggs and sugar with salt on medium until light and pale and doubled in volume, five to ten minutes. This took me ten. Your eggs will airy; this is the key to giving this cake its lift and crumb.

3.  Fold in the vanilla and melted chocolate mixture with a rubber spatula. Sprinkle the buckwheat and almond flours over the batter and fold gently to combine. Arrange strawberry halves bottomside-down evenly over cake. Sprinkle remaining tablespoon of sugar over the top; this will give the top a nice crackled texture. Bake cake in the center of the oven, and start checking for doneness at 20 minutes. Mine was finished at 30, but overbaking cake is obviously the worst, so get down with your cautious self. Cake is finished when a toothpick inserted into the middle comes out clean.

4.  Cool cake for five minutes on a rack, invert onto rack, remove parchment paper, and put cake rightside up to serve. Top slices with powdered sugar or whipped cream or berries or all of it, if you want. Cake will keep covered at room temperature for about two days before getting soft around the berries; it also tastes great cold outta the fridge.

Roasted Strawberry Sorbet

Two weeks ago, my good friends Bekka and Jon visited Larriland Farm in Woodbine, Maryland to load up on you-pick strawberries. Last year they came home with probably 20 pounds of berries that deliciously overwhelmed the freezer and fridge, so this year I was sure to sign up for a share of their lode. The berries from last summer were enormous, blood red, and exactly what you’d want for an eating berry, but this year’s have been like small ruby jewels that are slightly sour and much more floral—perfect for cooking, in other words. Growing up I mostly ate strawberries in things, or specifically, slathered with whipped cream, drowned in heavy cream, macerated and saturating a shortcake that was also slathered with whipped cream—they’re a blank canvas for dairy products, y’all. But Lipitor is in my future and I’m reining in my wanton use of fat-full dairy, which leads me to this sorbet: it is amazing. 
 
Most of the sorbet recipes that I consulted consisted of just berries, sugar, and lemon juice, which is sort of plain, especially for one who is accustomed to the righteous richness of strawberries in things. So, taking a cue from 101cookbooks, I roasted the bejeezus out of these berries and then churned the results into my honestly new favorite frozen dessert. Roasting the berries seriously transforms their flavor, almost caramelizing them, and the extra "work" (it's so easy!) is totally worth it. Mom is still going to cram me with strawberries and cream when I go home, and I’m sure that I’ll eat a river of strawberries if the next ones that Jon and Bekka bring home are as far out as the ones from last summer, for now and maybe forever, this roasted strawberry sorbet is my jam.

 
Roasted Strawberry Sorbet

Taking a cue from Heidi Swanson's recipe for roasted strawberries

Heidi's original recipe is for just roasted strawberries, and she suggests pairing them with an array of sweet or savory foods (goat cheese and graham crackers!). The recipe below deviates from her original proportions quite a bit and leaves out the port wine she suggested. All this in the name of killer sorbet. If you're interested in her original, and you should be, check out her amazing book or feature over here.

Get Yr Roasted Strawberry Sorbet On

Yields about five cups sorbet

Two pounds (32 ounces) little strawberries, hulled, and halved if they're larger (trimmed, my berry weight came to 1 pound, 14 ounces)

1/4 cup pure maple syrup

2 tablespoons olive oil

1/2 teaspoon fine-grain sea salt

2 tablespoons natural sugar

1/8 to 1/4 teaspoon balsamic vinegar, to your preference

1.  Preheat your oven to 350 degrees F. Hull your berries, halve if they're large, and toss with maple syrup, olive oil, and salt in a large bowl. Spread out in a single layer across two rimmed baking sheets or in casserole dishes; you want to use a receptacle that will reserve the juices! Rotating the pans halfway through, bake for 30 to 40 minutes, until the berry juices start to thicken; don't let them burn. Heidi counsels us to check the edges of the pan for tell-tale signs of imminent burning. 

2.  Remove berries from the oven. Working in batches, carefully pulverize the hot berries and syrup in a food processor or blender until totally smooth (my mixture did not need to be strained). Stir in the sugar and balsamic vinegar to taste, and chill puree in the fridge for at least three hours and ideally overnight.

3.  Churn the puree in an ice cream maker according to your manufacturer's instructions. This sorbet is the best eaten straight from the mixer or after firming up in the freezer for 20 minutes. If eating after the sorbet has spent a long period in the freezer, allow sorbet to sit out at room temperature for 15 minutes before scooping. Enjoy!

*Update:  If you don't have access to an ice cream maker, check out this post written by David Lebovitz explaining how to churn by hand. 

Summertime Strawberry Mascarpone Tart with Chocolate Cookie Crust

This has been a dreamy-as-fuck summer.  I was feeling a little snarky when I started writing this, as recent experiences with aggressive basil-plant death, terrible things happening to a hazelnut-cardamom-tartlet experiment, and a traveling Joey and faraway Molly had left me feeling a little crotchety, but then I remembered how I recently learned that the Potomac is home to four-foot long water snakes and probably water moccasins too (awesome), and that if someone hollers at you to shout the name of a state capital when you're swinging off a tree, you might possibly shout back "Maryland!" but no one will hold it against you. 

Multiply that by a bunch of seriously good-times trips to Maine, Seattle, Portland, and Richmond and a perpetual marathon of beer, bikes, and dance parties, and well, it's no wonder I've totally been cheating on this blog with summertime and instant ramen. Let me make it up to us though: This recipe is shamefully easy and it's practically no-bake! It's a take on last year's nectarine tart (You should click that. I use the phrase "fickle produce mistress."), adapted since the strawberries in Maine are baby jewels of awesome. If you're like me and have been completely underusing your farmers' market's supply of berries and stone fruit this summer, then this is an excellent recipe for getting back into the rhythm of fruity dessert accountability (for you and me both); it would be equally and possibly more awesome with gingersnap crust and blackberries drizzled with honey on top. Get yr summer on. 

Strawberry Mascarpone Tart 

Adapted from SmittenKitchen

Crust
About 3 1/2 cups of crushed chocolate cookies
7 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted 

2 tablespoons brown sugar, or more, if you prefer a sweeter crust

Filling
1 8-ounce container mascarpone cheese
6 ounces cream cheese, room temperature
1/4 cup sour cream
1/4 cup sugar
1 1/2 teaspoon grated lemon peel
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract

Topping
1 quart of the tiniest strawberries around, with their tops cut off
1/4 cup strawberry jam, warmed (I skipped this, it felt cheap)

For crust: Preheat oven to 350°F. Finely grind cookies and sugar in food processor. Add melted butter and pulse on and off until crumbs are evenly moistened. Press mixture over bottom and up sides of 10-inch-diameter tart pan with removable bottom. Bake crust until color darkens, pressing sides with back of spoon if beginning to slide, about eight minutes. Cool completely.

For filling: Beat first six ingredients in medium bowl until smooth.  You can make this ahead and keep refrigerated for up to one day, or proceed and spread filling in prepared crust. Cover loosely and refrigerate at least two hours and up to one day.

For topping:  Place hulled strawberries bottom up across your filling. Alternatively, you can cut the berries into thin slices and fan them across the top. Brush with jam if you're using. Serve, or cover loosely with plastic wrap and refrigerate for up to six hours. (We actually had leftovers for about two days and they kept okay, but the crust gets soggy and the fruit degrades after about a day, so this is definitely best if eaten in the same day.)

Rustic Rhubarb Tarts

Two weeks ago, I took my first foray down to Wolf Trap National Park in Virginia to see Prairie Home Companion (and Gillian Welch!) with some near and dear friends. While I've only been to a handful of outdoor performance spaces (and never to The Gorge), I can say with some confidence that Wolf Trap is remarkable, especially when it's blazing sunshine and you've just come from an indoor picnic and possibly maybe a beer-chugging session. We watched the radio show (what a concept!) in the Filene Center, which is ten stories of dizzying carpentry set in the middle of an expanse of lawn for picnickers.  Our troupe had planned to picnic along with everyone else, but when thunderstorms (that never materialized) threatened to close in, we relocated to Tory and Joey's house to potluck, drink (Dogfish Head Immort Ale), and of course, eat dessert.

My obsession with Kim Boyce's new cookbook still hasn't relented, so when I finally got to the farmers market early enough to pick and choose my produce, her corn flour rhubarb tarts became the obvious choice for a Saturday baking endeavor.  While I've managed to acquire some obscure flours for her recipes, I still can't find the dried hibiscus flowers this one calls for, so I altered the rhubarb compote and made it with strawberries instead. Call me boring, but this dessert is anything but, and while the free-form pastry dough can be slightly troubling on a sweltering day, this is still a simple, beautiful, spring or summer tart.

Rustic (Strawberry) Rhubarb Tarts

Adapted from Kim Boyce's Good to the Grain:  Baking with Whole-Grain Flours

Her full recipe makes ten tarts.  I made the full pastry recipe, but only made six tarts, and cut the compote recipe in half because I didn't purchase enough rhubarb.  From the leftover pastry, I made ten thumbprint cookies dolloped with the remaining compote.  The tarts cook for 35 minutes, and  my cookies were finished after 18.  You can follow what I did, or scale back the pastry by half, or better yet, pick up a copy of Kim's book and get her original recipe. 

For the pastry (full recipe)

1 cup corn flour (I used Bob's Red Mill)

1 cup all-purpose flour

1/2 cup fine cornmeal 

1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons granulated sugar

1 teaspoon Kosher salt

1 stick (four ounces) cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons heavy cream

2 egg yolks

1.  Combine dry ingredients in a food processor.  Add the butter and process in short pulses, until mixture resembles coarse corn meal.  Add the heavy cream and egg yolks, and pulse until combined.  Don't overmix here; the dough will look crumbly, but it will come together when kneaded.  You can also do this all by hand, just by rubbing the butter into the flour with your fingertips until it reaches that same corn meal consistency.

2.  Divide the dough into ten equal pieces.  Lightly flour a work surface and, using the heel of your hand, flatten a piece of dough into a rough circle.  Continue flattening until it's approximately five inches in diameter (or, I found, even a little larger).  Try to work quickly so that the dough doesn't get too soft.  For a more elegant edge, Boyce recommends flattening the outer edge with your fingertips, making it thinner than the rest.

3.  Spoon three tablespoons of the strawberry rhubarb compote (recipe below) into the center of the dough (Boyce calls for four tablespoons, but based on advice from SmittenKitchen and my own observations, I went with three).  Fold the dough into the center of the tart and up, to make a ruffled edge; continue all the way around until you've achieved your rustic aesthetic. Slide a bench scraper or metal spatula under the pastry and place on a parchment-covered cookie sheet.  Continue with the rest of the dough.  Freeze the tarts for at least an hour, or up to two weeks if wrapped tightly in plastic.

4.  In an oven preheated to 375 degrees Fahrenheit, bake the tarts, still frozen, for about 35 minutes or until the edges are golden and the compote is bubbling and thick.  Serve warm or at room temperature.  The tarts keep in an airtight container for up to two days (but they probably won't last that long). 

For the Strawberry Rhubarb Compote (half recipe)

Again, Boyce makes Rhubarb Hibiscus compote. I'm still trying to get my hands on some hibiscus flowers, which I bet are fully excellent (Lottie and Doof says so too).

1 pound strawberries, rinsed and hulled

1 pound rhubarb stalks, de-leafed

3/4 cup dark brown sugar, packed 

1 teaspoon fresh lemon zest + 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

1.  Rinse rhubarb stalks and trim very ends.  Cut in half lengthwise and cut stalks on the diagonal into 3/4-inch pieces (You should have about 3 cups).   Cut the strawberries lengthwise into quarters (You should have about 3 cups).

2.  Leaving three-quarters cup of the rhubarb aside, combine rhubarb and brown sugar in a heavy-bottomed pot.  Add the sugar, lemon juice, and lemon zest, and turn the heat to medium low.  Cook, covered, for 15 minutes until the rhubarb has released its juices and your kitchen smells awesome.  Add the strawberries, increase heat to medium, and cook, uncovered now, for another 15 to 20 minutes, or until the compote is fairly thick and a metal spoon leaves a trail at the bottom of the pan.  Watch the mixture closely so it doesn't burn.

3.  Remove from heat, toss in the remaining rhubarb.  Spread compote on a cold plate or baking pan and allow to cool and thicken for about a half hour, then proceed with filling the tarts. Remaining compote keeps covered in the fridge for about a week, and is awesome mixed into yogurt, ricotta, or on toast. 

Strawberry Rhubarb Pie

Sacrificial offering to summer in exchange for decent produce. Thanks DC!

Pie is my jam. Humidity is not. And though no humidity could stop me from making a pie with berries this good—though it could very damn near well ruin my crusts—humidity makes me just lazy enough to lose my desire to click away on a hot computer pretending like I need to cajole anyone into making a pie that is this flaky and awesome.

Baby berries! I almost just want to be friends with them and not eat them.

Strawberry Rhubarb Pie
Mixed and matched from Gourmet, New Best Recipe, and SmittenKitchen

Crust
Makes two shells for a 9 inch pie tin

3 cups all purpose flour
2 1/2 teaspoons sugar
3/4 teaspoon salt
2/3 cup chilled solid vegetable shortening, cut into pieces
1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons (1 1/4 sticks) chilled unsalted butter, cut into pieces
8 to 10 tablespoons ice water (I used 9)

Filling
You want about seven cups of fruit. The recipes I consulted split it half and half, but I used four cups strawberries and three cups rhubarb. If you use more strawberries, and they are good ones, feel free to dial the sugar back too.

3 cups 1/2-inch-thick slices trimmed rhubarb (about 1 1/2 pounds untrimmed)
2 2-quart baskets of strawberries, hulled, halved (about 4 cups)
1/2 cup (packed) golden brown sugar
1/2 cup sugar (filled modestly—I left a little off the top)
1/4 cup cornstarch
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 Tablespoon raw sugar for sprinklin’

1 large egg whisked with a little water for glazing the crust

1. Make crust: Combine flour, sugar and salt in processor. Using on/off turns, cut in shortening and butter until coarse meal forms. Blend in enough ice water 2 tablespoons at a time to form moist clumps. Gather dough into ball; cut in half. Flatten each half into disk. Wrap separately in plastic; refrigerate until firm, about 1 hour.

2. Make filling: Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Combine first 7 ingredients in large bowl. Toss very gently to blend.

3. Assemble Pie: Roll out 1 dough disk on floured work surface to 13-inch round. Transfer to 9-inch-diameter pie tin (I used metal, you could use glass). Trim excess dough, leaving 3/4-inch overhang.

4. Roll out second dough disk on lightly floured surface to 13-inch round. Cut into 10 1/2-inch-wide strips. Spoon filling into crust. Arrange 5 dough strips atop filling, spacing evenly. Form lattice by placing remaining dough strips in opposite direction atop filling. Trim ends of dough strips even with overhang of bottom crust. Fold strip ends and overhang under, pressing to seal. Crimp edges with a fork or with your fingers. Brush glaze over crust and sprinkle sugar on top to decorate.

5. Transfer pie to baking sheet lined with foil. Bake 20 minutes. Reduce oven temperature to 350 degrees F. Bake pie until crust is golden and filling thickens, about another 35 to 45 minutes. Transfer pie to rack and cool completely.