Key Lime Pie: When It's Too Hot To Turn On The Oven, But You Need Dessert

So, I'm going to a dinner party tonight, and was asked to bring dessert. It's hotter than fuck out there, and sticky, and gross, and I really don't want to turn on the oven. The last time I supped with this group, I also brought dessert, and that, friends, was my near-famous strawberry shortcake with thyme and balsamic vinegar. Mmm. Mmm, yes, but it ruled out another shortcake option (which, face it, is one of the best options in this nasty-assed weather).

So, what to do? By the time I thought of a puff pastry tart, it was too late to buy and defrost puff pastry. (Note to self: buy puff pastry, put in freezer for just such an occasion.) (Additional note to self: you're 39 years old -- shouldn't you be able to type "occasion" properly the first time 'round?)

Long story short (too late), it came down to a chocolate ganache pie (only heat required: microwave for melting chocolate and butter, as long as you use a pre-done crumb crust), or the ultimate in no-bake goodness: Key Lime Pie.

And Key Lime Pie won the day. 2 crumb crusts, 4 egg yolks, 2 cans sweetened condensed milk, and a scant cup of key lime juice. Plus obscene amounts of whisking. No, really. Right now, I'm sitting barely clad right under the a/c because I'm sweating like a pig would sweat if a pig could sweat which they can't. I'm just saying. If offered a wallow, I'd consider saying "yes."

Anywho. I now have two pies setting up in the fridge. I'm not going to top it off with meringue, because, again, see the "no oven, damn it" stance of hot weather cookery. I will likely pick up some whipping cream on the way to the dinner, just because there's extra head room on the pies, and I like a pie that looks ample, not accommodating.

You're thinking to yourself at this point "Um....are those egg yolks raw?" Well...only as raw as the scallops in your ceviche are raw. The acid in the lime juice denatures the proteins in the eggs, "cooking" 'em. If you've a compromised immune system, you might want to shy away from this, but if you're okay with sushi or ceviche or delicious unpasteurized cheeses, you should be fine with this authentic tasty pie.

Scaled down version of the recipe (for those rare occasions where one pie is deemed enough):

Key Lime Pie
Based on bits and pieces of far too many recipes

2 egg yolks
1 14-oz can of sweetened condensed milk
1/4-1/2 cup key lime juice
1 9" graham cracker crumb crust pie shell

If you have a hand mixer, this'd be a good time to use it. Otherwise, this is a good recipe to work out your whisking arms. Whisk the egg yolks until they are very, very pale yellow and frothy. Add in the sweetened condensed milk, and whisk, whisk, whisk, whisk. You want to keep whisking until it is getting noticeably thickened -- when you pick the whisk up out of the goo, it should come off the whisk in sheets, not in drips. So, whisk some more. If you're using electrics, this'll be at about the 4 minute mark. If you're going by hand, it'll be longer. Whisk away, baby. On a really hot day, you might want to make sure you're sitting under an air conditioner, so you can stay cool.

Once your goo is thick, add in 1/4 cup of key lime juice (preferably fresh, but if your choice is between fresh NON-key limes or bottled key lime juice, go for the bottled). Stir, stir, stir until it's well incorporated. Then, dip your very clean pinky tip into the goo, and taste. Is it tart enough? Is it lime-y enough? If not, add more lime juice, up to another 1/4 cup (so, up to 1/2 cup total. No more, or I won't vouch for the setting-up-ability of the pie).

Pour into a prepared crumb crust, scraping all the gooey goodness out of the bowl and into the pie. Place gently in your fridge, and let it sit there for a good 4 hours before serving.

Garnishing options:

• grated fresh lime zest
  
• candied lime peel
  
• fresh lime wheels
  
• little dabs of whipped cream
  
• great big globs of whipped cream
  
• more Cool Whip than might strictly be considered healthy
  
• meringue made from those 2 egg whites you have left over from separating out your yolks for this recipe (note: this would require turning on the oven)

You could use a ginger snap crust, if you want a ginger-lime pie. You could use a chocolate crumb crust for a black-bottom key lime pie. You could do away with crust completely and just let the goo set up in wee ramekins or custard dishes. I won't judge.

Halloween Pie: No Bake Pumpkin Pie -- Really!

My nephew out in Oregon -- Jamie -- is a big, big fan of pumpkin pie. When it comes to his birthday, he requests a "pumpkin pie cake"...in March! Now, I'm always happy to bake a pumpkin pie, but I understand that some people freak out at the thought of baking, especially custard pies, so I appreciate that there may be call for a no-bake option. Today's recipe from Amazing Magical Jell-o Desserts is about as simple a no-bake pie as you (or your older children) can get.

♦ Halloween Pie

THESE GO IN:
1 package (6-serving size) Jell-O brand vanilla flavor instant pudding and pie filling
1 can (16 oz.) pumpkin
1 cup cold milk
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg*
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger*
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon*
1 baked 9-inch graham cracker crumb crust, cooled
1 container (4 1/2 oz.) Birds Eye Cool whip non-dairy whipped topping, thawed

* Or use 1 teaspoon pumpkin pie spice.

GET THESE READY:
9-inch pie plate
mixing bowl
mixing spoon
electric mixer or hand beater
1-cup liquid measure
1-cup dry measure
measuring spoons
wax paper
metal spatula

HOW TO MAKE IT:

1. Combine pie filling mix, pumpkin, milk, and spices in bowl.
   
2. Mix slowly with electric mixer or hand beater just until blended, about 1 minute.
   
3. Fold in 1 cup of the whipped topping.
   
4. Spoon into pie shell. Chill until set, at least 2 hours.
   
5. Garnish with remaining whipped topping. (To make "face," cut pieces of wax paper in shape of eyes, nose and mouth and place on pie filling. Spread whipped topping around papers; then remove papers. Garnish with candy corn to resemble teeth.)

Buy a pre-made crumb crust and you're in no-bake land. I really want you to think about getting a gingersnap crumb crust. Or a chocolate one. Oh, yes.

I'm trying to puzzle out the call for a 1-cup dry measure -- my best guess is they want you to treat the Cool Whip as a dry ingredient, which seems more than a bit strange to me, but you know what? Your wet measure is dirty from the milk, so might as well use another measuring cup for the Cool Whip. Go for it.

This cookbook is so precise about listing out every little thing you might need that I find it odd that they don't list out candy corn in the "These Go In" list. Of course, you could just have your mouth stencil have teeth on it...

Do I have to point out here that you should use straight canned pumpkin, and not canned pumpkin pie filling? Don't use that canned pumpkin pie filling. Ever. You can spice your own darned pumpkin, boys and girls. You can.

Key Lime Pie: When It's Too Hot To Turn On The Oven, But You Need Dessert

So, I'm going to a dinner party tonight, and was asked to bring dessert. It's hotter than fuck out there, and sticky, and gross, and I really don't want to turn on the oven. The last time I supped with this group, I also brought dessert, and that, friends, was my near-famous strawberry shortcake with thyme and balsamic vinegar. Mmm. Mmm, yes, but it ruled out another shortcake option (which, face it, is one of the best options in this nasty-assed weather).

So, what to do? By the time I thought of a puff pastry tart, it was too late to buy and defrost puff pastry. (Note to self: buy puff pastry, put in freezer for just such an occasion.) (Additional note to self: you're 39 years old -- shouldn't you be able to type "occasion" properly the first time 'round?)

Long story short (too late), it came down to a chocolate ganache pie (only heat required: microwave for melting chocolate and butter, as long as you use a pre-done crumb crust), or the ultimate in no-bake goodness: Key Lime Pie.

And Key Lime Pie won the day. 2 crumb crusts, 4 egg yolks, 2 cans sweetened condensed milk, and a scant cup of key lime juice. Plus obscene amounts of whisking. No, really. Right now, I'm sitting barely clad right under the a/c because I'm sweating like a pig would sweat if a pig could sweat which they can't. I'm just saying. If offered a wallow, I'd consider saying "yes."

Anywho. I now have two pies setting up in the fridge. I'm not going to top it off with meringue, because, again, see the "no oven, damn it" stance of hot weather cookery. I will likely pick up some whipping cream on the way to the dinner, just because there's extra head room on the pies, and I like a pie that looks ample, not accommodating.

You're thinking to yourself at this point "Um....are those egg yolks raw?" Well...only as raw as the scallops in your ceviche are raw. The acid in the lime juice denatures the proteins in the eggs, "cooking" 'em. If you've a compromised immune system, you might want to shy away from this, but if you're okay with sushi or ceviche or delicious unpasteurized cheeses, you should be fine with this authentic tasty pie.

Scaled down version of the recipe (for those rare occasions where one pie is deemed enough):

Key Lime Pie
Based on bits and pieces of far too many recipes

2 egg yolks
1 14-oz can of sweetened condensed milk
1/4-1/2 cup key lime juice
1 9" graham cracker crumb crust pie shell

If you have a hand mixer, this'd be a good time to use it. Otherwise, this is a good recipe to work out your whisking arms. Whisk the egg yolks until they are very, very pale yellow and frothy. Add in the sweetened condensed milk, and whisk, whisk, whisk, whisk. You want to keep whisking until it is getting noticeably thickened -- when you pick the whisk up out of the goo, it should come off the whisk in sheets, not in drips. So, whisk some more. If you're using electrics, this'll be at about the 4 minute mark. If you're going by hand, it'll be longer. Whisk away, baby. On a really hot day, you might want to make sure you're sitting under an air conditioner, so you can stay cool.

Once your goo is thick, add in 1/4 cup of key lime juice (preferably fresh, but if your choice is between fresh NON-key limes or bottled key lime juice, go for the bottled). Stir, stir, stir until it's well incorporated. Then, dip your very clean pinky tip into the goo, and taste. Is it tart enough? Is it lime-y enough? If not, add more lime juice, up to another 1/4 cup (so, up to 1/2 cup total. No more, or I won't vouch for the setting-up-ability of the pie).

Pour into a prepared crumb crust, scraping all the gooey goodness out of the bowl and into the pie. Place gently in your fridge, and let it sit there for a good 4 hours before serving.

Garnishing options:

• grated fresh lime zest
  
• candied lime peel
  
• fresh lime wheels
  
• little dabs of whipped cream
  
• great big globs of whipped cream
  
• more Cool Whip than might strictly be considered healthy
  
• meringue made from those 2 egg whites you have left over from separating out your yolks for this recipe (note: this would require turning on the oven)

You could use a ginger snap crust, if you want a ginger-lime pie. You could use a chocolate crumb crust for a black-bottom key lime pie. You could do away with crust completely and just let the goo set up in wee ramekins or custard dishes. I won't judge.

One more variation, for the booze hounds out there--and I know you're there--use 1/4 cup key lime juice, and 1/8-1/4 cup tequila. Voila, you've got a margarita pie!

Grasshopper Pie & Rhubarb Pie: Pies for Peace

Sometimes, when it seems the whole world is sliding into a cesspit, JJ, Heather and I declare Pies for Peace. Basically, this means we get together and bake pie after pie after pie. Somehow, filling the kitchen with yummy smells makes the world at large seem a bit more cheerful and manageable.

Pies for Peace shouldn't be confused with Piepocalypse, our yearly Thanksgiving glut of pie. One is all about peace and the other is all about topping last year's number & variety.

Like any self-respecting church cookbook, Presbyterian Palate Pleasers has a lot of pie recipes. Today, we'll look at two of them: Grasshopper and Rhubarb.

Grasshopper Pie

Crust:
16 Oreo cookies (crushed)
3 Tbsp. melted butter

Mix and press into a pie pan.

Filling:
24 marshmallows
3/4 c. milk
2 oz. creme de menthe
1 drop green food coloring
1 oz. creme de cacao
1 c. whipped cream

Melt marshmallows in double boiler. Add milk, blend and cool. Add creme de menthe and creme de cacao. Fold in whipped cream; add food coloring. Pour into cookie crust and chill.

Ann Bean

How much do I love grasshopper pie? It was one of my favorites growing up -- the other was coconut impossible pie, which I should really dig up and post here, because...yum. Anyway, I am not quite sure how such a boozy pie became the favorite of a wee child. I suppose it's possible my mom used mint extract and chocolate syrup or some such, but really, I doubt it.

This is one of the easier grasshopper pie recipes you'll see out there. No fiddling about with gelatin, no whipped egg whites. One thing to note: It's 24 big marshmallows, not mini. I advise you to toss the double boiler; you can melt the marshmallows in the microwave. "Less fussy" is usually the way to go.

For the ultimate in reduced fussiness, you could always buy your chocolate crumb crust pre-made. Your pie will lack a certain rustic beauty, though, and you'll miss out on the fabulous catharsis one can find when bashing Oreos into dust.

Rhubarb Pie

3 large c. rhubarb
1 egg
1-1/2 c. sugar
Butter size of walnut

Pour boiling water over rhubarb and let stand 5 minutes; drain. Mix all ingredients well and fill unbaked crust. Dust with flour and put on top crust. Bake at 350°F for 40-50 minutes.

Mrs. George S. Lehner

(Mrs. Lehner and her husband owned and operated the Dagmar Hotel for years.)

Go, Mrs. Lehner! Here's her hotel:


Dagmar Hotel, Hagerstown, MD,
by Mr. T in DC, under Creative Commons license.

The Dagmar Hotel was also the headquarters of the M.P Moller Motor Car Company for a good stretch of time. They made custom cars (called Dagmars, naturally).

Now, I dig that cooks of yore often assumed you knew without being told that you'd need crust for a double crust pie, and that you would know how to make it. I know how to make a really good pie crust.

Confession time: I usually just buy the Pillsbury crust from the refrigerator case. What can I say? It's not as good as homemade, but it's only marginally less good, and it's so fricking easy. So, you can do as I do, and there's no judgement coming at you from this corner. You can rustic it up with your crimping technique, or by being less than anal with straight lines for your lattice strips.

Never done a lattice crust? Don't fret -- it's easy, and there are lots of tutorials on how to make a lattice crust out there.

I will insist upon you having a lattice crust. It's rhubarb pie. I can't imagine a rhubarb pie without a lattice crust. Save your regular top crust for your apple pies, your blackberry pies, your peach pies. Go lattice for rhubarb.

Three cups of rhubarb is about one pound, for what it's worth. Yes, you could buy a pound of chunked up frozen rhubarb -- if you do, thaw it before using -- but it's still rhubarb season. Go buy a pound.

Pork Pie (Not the Hat): Empanada Gallega de Raxó

When I was a wee thing growing up in Oregon, we didn't have Taco Bell, we had Taco Time. So, I grew up thinking that an empanada was a filled, fried cylinder of questionably fruit origin, covered in sugar. Good stuff. Further experience introduced me to Latin American empanadas, big full pocket pies of meaty goodness. Let's face it: I'm a fiend for a savory pie, I'm a fiend for an individual-sized pie, so I'm a fiend for empanadas.

It comes then as no surprise that when I saw an empanada on a menu in Spain, I ordered it. This recipe from Delicioso! The Regional Cooking of Spain is spot on for the unexpected--but wonderful--empanada:

Empanada Gallega de Raxó
(Galician Pork and Peppers Pie)

Start preparation 2 hours in advance

I have never found a filling that is tastier and more succulent than this one for Galicia’s classic savory pie. Empanadas, however, may be filled with many other mixtures, from tuna, scallops, and sardines to rabbit and chicken. The dough also varies according to the cook, from a real bread dough to a much more refined modified puff pastry. Here I have provided my favorite puff pastry empanada dough from Tapas: The Little Dishes of Spain, but when I do not have the time or inclination to make my own pastry, I go to my local pizzeria and buy an uncooked pizza dough. The empanada comes out just like those of Galicia based on bread dough.

Empanadas cut in small wedges or squares make excellent tapas, and in larger portions, accompanied by a salad, make a most enjoyable light meal. I think they are at their best freshly baked but at room temperature.

Makes about 4 dinner or 8-10 tapas portions

Puff Pastry for Empanadas (p. 109) or 1 ½ pounds pizza dough
3 cloves garlic, peeled
2 tablespoons minced parsely
1 ½ teaspoons minced oregano leaves or ¼ teaspoon dried
Several strands of saffron
1 ½ teaspoons thyme leaves or ¼ teaspoon dried
¼ cup olive oil
3 tablespoons dry white wine
¾ pound boneless pork loin, cut in 1/8-inch slices, then in 1/2-inch strips
1 large onion, preferably Vidalia or Spanish, slivered
¾ pound green frying peppers, cored, seeded, and cut in long narrow strips
3 teaspoons imported sweet paprika
¼ pound tomato, skinned, seeded, and chopped
4 tablespoons (1/4 cup)finely diced Spanish mountain cured ham, prosciutto, or capicollo
Salt
Freshly ground pepper
1 hard-boiled egg, sliced
1 pimiento, imported or homemade (p. 178), cut in strips
1 egg, lightly beaten with 1 teaspoon water

If using homemade dough, prepare according to instructions.

In a mortar or mini processor, mash to a paste the garlic, parsley, oregano, saffron, and thyme. Mix in 1 tablespoon of the oil and the wine. Transfer to a bowl and mix in the strips of pork, coating them well. Marinate 2 hours. Drain the meat and reserve the marinade.

In a shallow casserole, heat 2 tablespoons of the oil and slowly sauté the meat until it just loses its color. Return the meat to the reserved marinade. Add the remaining tablespoon of oil to the casserole and sauté the onion and pepers a minute or two. Cover and cook very slowly for 15 minutes. Stir in the paprika, then turn up the heat, add the tomato, and cook 5 minutes. Stir in the paprika, then turn up the heat, add the tomato, and cook 5 minutes. Add the pork wit hits marinade and the ham and season with salt and pepper.

Roll the dough into a 14- by 28-inch rectangle. Divide into two 14-inch squares, then trim the corners to make two 14-inch circles. Place one of them on a cookie sheet (dampened if using pastry dough, sprinkled with cornemeal or flour if using pizza dough) and arrange the pork mixture to within 1 inch of the edge. Scatter on the egg slices, top with the pimiento strips, and cover with the second dough circle. Roll up the edges and press well to seal. Make several slits in the dough, brush with the beaten egg, and bake at 350°F for about 30 to 35 minutes, or until browned. Cool a few minutes before serving or serve at room temperature.

Oh, yes. Bread and meat and deliciousness, coming out looking like a stuffed pizza. Don't believe me? Take a gander:



Not the most artistic of all possible photos, but look! That's my wedge o' empanada, proper Spanish empanada! Beats the heck out of a Taco Time anything, I don't mind telling you. (All due and right respect to Taco Time; you taught me to dip crispy burritos in ketchup...you taught me there could be crispy burritos.) Everyone else ordered pizza, so I'm betting that they used pizza dough for the empanada, too. If anyone feels a strong need for the puff pastry recipe referenced above, I'll post it, but, really: use some pizza dough. Speed up your process. Get to the good stuff. The pork. The pie. The pork pie (not a hat).

Tasty, hearty, filling without weighing you down. Trust me. And, yes, you really do serve up a full quarter as a serving. The Camino is a long, long walk.

Substitution Time: Joe Bunkers or Brambles

When I was a wee tyke, and my mom would make pie, my sister and I got to have the crust scraps. Sprinkled with cinnamon sugar, baked up, tasty as all heckfire. So, when I saw the recipe for Joe Bunkers or Brambles in Favorite Recipes from Matinicus Island Maine I knew it had to be featured here. I don't know if the name options are "Joe Bunkers" and "Brambles" or "Joe Bunkers" and "Joe Brambles." I'm going to be a rebel and say that you can call 'em any of the three, or even call 'em "Joes." Substitute the name you prefer. Substitution is going to be key for this recipe.

Joe Bunkers or Brambles

Make rich pie crust. Roll thin. Cut in large squares. In center of each square put in a spoonful of filling.

Filling
2 eggs
1 cup sugar
Juice and grated rind of 1 lemon
1 cup chopped raisins
5 or 6 Royal lunch crackers, rolled fine (If too moist take more crackers.)

Fold corners of square up to filling. 400° oven -- Bake until lightly brown.

--Carrie Ames

Now, you should know, there's no such cracker as a Royal lunch cracker anymore. They aren't being made anymore, and the first choice substitute is also not being made anymore. You can try your hand at making your own milk lunch cracker or buy the next best to the next best thing: the Vermont common cracker.

I'm here to tell you: the Vermont common cracker has next to no flavor. If this is what milk lunch crackers tasted like, I'm not at all surprised they're off the shelves. I had assumed that the crackers were a local type of Ritz cracker. I thought the recipe was for a sort of mini Mock Apple Pie. I'm a big fan of Mock Apple Pie, and a big fan of mini whatnots.

My advice: unless you're from New England, and have been raised to love (or even tolerate) the incredibly bland blandness of a common cracker, boldly substitute. Boldly substitute! Do the recipe as written, but crush up a bunch of Ritz crackers. Bring their buttery goodness to your Joes party.

Glory, Glory, Halleluia: Glorified Apple Pie

It's a hot, sunny fourth of July here in Washington, DC. Chefly Husband and I took our dog down to the Palisades parade, bought lemonade from a lemonade stand, ate sausages off the grill, and shouted "votes for candy" at more than one passing politician. Yes, it's a right proper Independence Day! In light of that, we'll take a slice of Americana from Favorite Recipes from Matinicus Island Maine-- apple pie.

Glorified Apple Pie

Prepare McIntosh apples as for regular apple pie, and place on bottom crust. Mix 3/4 sugar and 1 package of strawberry jello. Add this to apples, put on top crust and bake as usual. Wonderful served with ice cream.

--Adella Ames

Baseball, hot dogs, apple pie, and Chevrolet, folks.

Adella Ames (yes, another Ames...the same surnames repeat throughout the cookbook. It's a small island, after all.) assumes you have a usual way of making an apple pie. I assume nothing of the sort.

You need pie crust enough for a bottom crust and a top crust. Use your favorite pie crust recipe; of course, if you have a favorite pie crust recipe, you probably don't need to be told how to make a pie. So, you know, feel free to use the pre-made crust in the refrigerator section of your local grocery store. I won't tell, and as long as you use the fridged stuff and not the frozen stuff, odds are no one will really notice you didn't make it yourself. Line your pie plate/tin with one of the crusts, and then put it in the fridge to stay nice and cold.

Next, take a big ol' mixing bowl, and put it near your apple peeling and chopping station. Don't have one? Of course you do. Any cutting board will do, and I'd recommend using a vegetable peeler to peel your apples, but if you want to pare your apples with a paring knife, more power to you. Extra style points if you get the peel off in one long spiral (though, again, if you're that practiced, you're probably not in need of a walk through of pie making). You'll need about 8 apples. Peel 'em, cut 'em into quarters, and cut away the seeds and core. The seeds and core go in your compost bin or trash bin, not the pie.

Use your handy dandy paring knife and cut the apple quarters into bite-sized chunks, and put the chunks in the bowl. Sprinkle on 1/4 teaspoon nutmeg, and 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon. Sprinkle over that a couple tablespoons of flour -- the flour will help the pie set up, though I'm guessing that with the Jell-o, you're not going to really need it. I often forget it; it will still taste good. Squeeze in about half a lemon worth of lemon juice. Mix it all up, take the pie plate out of the fridge, and pour the apple mixture out into the crust, mounding it up in the middle if you have extra. Take a tablespoon or so of butter, and cut it into little chunks, and put those chunks sort of randomly over the apples. That's called dotting with butter. Now you know. At this point, you've prepared a pie "as usual," and can pick up with the instructions from Adella.

The top crust will need to be vented -- you need to make vents in it to let out the steam of the apples cooking. You can get all sorts of fancy, cutting out shapes, making a lattice out of strips of pastry, or whatnot, but for your first pie, I'd say just cut a few slits in the crust with your paring knife. Lay the top crust over the apples, and seal the edges of the two crusts together, either with your fingers or the tines of a fork (pressing down with the flat bit). A 350°F oven is your friend, and cook until your crust is pretty and brown and there's appley goodness coming out a bit.

Now you, too, have a usual apple pie method. You'll get fancier as you go, with the aforementioned crust treatments, egg washes, crumble topping, mixed fruits, etc., but this gets you going.

Happy Independence Day.

Potluck Pleasers: 7 Layer Cookie, and Grasshopper Pie

I was a child of the '70s, and I love me some potluck. So, today, we'll look at two recipes from the Cook Book Presented by The Fishwives of Charleston Oregon that I absolutely guarantee will be welcome at a potluck in your future.

7 Layer Cookie

1 stick McKay's margarine
1 c. graham cracker
1 c. coconut
1 pkg. chocolate chips
1 pkg. butterscotch chips
1 c. eagle brand milk
1 1/2 c. chopped nuts

In a cake pan melt the butter. Then sprinkle the graham cracker crumbs over the butter. Sprinkle each of the ingred. in succession over the proceeding one. Bake at 350 for 30 min. Cool and cut.

--Flora Ann Anderson

Is this the first bar recipe for Take One Cookbook...? If so, what a bar to kick us off! It's easy as sin to put together, and, good golly, but it's tasty. I love all the textures, the gooeyness, the crumblies, the chewy coconut. As for your pan, I'd say break out your trusty 9x13, but if you want to try it in a 9x9 or an 8x8, I won't tell you no. You'll just get thicker bars (and I think we all appreciate a good thick bar, no?).

I've mentioned before that I was a margarine girl for the first half of my life. So, it tickles me that Flora Ann calls for margarine in the ingredient list, but only refers to butter in the instructions. I'll admit it: I called margarine butter. And, though this goes against everything I've said before, I really think that margarine is the way to go for this recipe.

Maybe it's just my childhood taste buds taking over. Perhaps I'll do a cook-off, with one pan of margarine 7 Layers and one of butter. My childhood taste bud, having thoroughly commandeered this post, also dictate the next recipe choice:

Grasshopper Pie

1 1/4 c. choc. wafers, crushed
1/2 c. sugar
3 tbsp. McKay's marg., melted
1 1/2 tsp. gelatin, unflavored
6 tbsp. cold water
1 McKay's egg, sep., beaten
1 c. creme 'de menthe
1/2 c. creme 'de cocoa
1 2 1/8 oz. pkg. whipped topping mix

Heat oven to 450 F. Combine the wafers, margarine and sugar. Press the crumbs into the bottom and sides of a well-buttered 9 inch pie plate. Put in oven. Bake 2 to 3 min. Cool. Combine the gelatin and water in a small saucepan. Place over low heat. Stir until dissolved. Combine the other half of sugar and egg yolk in a mixing bowl. Add the dissolved gelatin, creme 'de menthe and creme 'de cocoa. Chill. Prepaer the whipped topping mix. Fold into the gelatin mixture. Pour into crust. Chill 3 to 4 hours. May be topped with additional whipped topping.

--Viola Nappier

Ooooh, the green and black and creamy and minty icebox pie! Grasshopper Pie and Impossible Pie were my two favorite non-holiday pies for a good long time. I'm not sure about the reasoning for the apostrophes before "de" in the liquors, but this pie has a cup and a half of liquor, so I'm not going to nitpick.

If you were pressed for time, or find yourself with a better stocked bar than pantry or baking aisle, you could use a pre-made chocolate crumb crust. These don't taste as good as homemade, but they are tidy, and they come in their own pie tin, which means you don't have to think about how to get your tin on your way from the potluck.

The County Fair Cookbook, Lyn Stallworth & Rod Kennedy Jr.: Swiss Cabbage Pie

I was a 4Her from early on. It helps that my dad was an Extension agent, and helped get 4H going in our town; my sister is now the secretary for 4H in that same office. I was part of 4H sewing, cooking, forestry, photography, and rabbits...a lot of clubs! I went to 4H camp (which has mixed memories for me, especially as my first-ever high fever was at camp, and so there are some hallucinations wrapped up in my recollections of the senior counselors). The best part of 4H, though, was The Fair.

Come the third week in August, life moved to Canby. Even before we had 4H projects of our own, we'd go and watch Dad judge the photography. Mom would talk about when she made cookies for her county fair, and ate so much dough she was ill. My sister and I showed our rabbits, had our sewing skills evaluated, demonstrated recipes, and once and a while even thought about going to see the rodeo.

To say I love my county fair -- and, yes, though I've been gone for 19 years, I still think of that as my fair -- is an understatement. So, when I got a happy reminder that, yes, I have a cookbook blog, it was easy to pick a seasonal choice: The County Fair Cookbook by Lyn Stallworth and Rod Kennedy, Jr. (Hyperion, 1994). The book is divided up by region, focusing mainly on the United States but including some Canadian fairs. The recipes represent both their region and the homey comfort of county fairs in general, and are accompanied by loving descriptions of the fairs themselves. There's even a page dedicated to my fair, but we'll get to that later on this week. For now, let's go to the Eureka County Fair, in Eureka, Nevada. The fair runs the first or second week of August, for three days. Just take Route 50 out of Reno.

Swiss Cabbage Pie

"When he was a kid on the ranch, my husband's grandmother took this down to the hayfield around two p.m. as an afternoon snack with coffee," says Ethel. "I collect cookbooks, and when we lived on a ranch I'd find a great-sounding recipe and realize I didn't have most of the ingredients called for. We were seventy-five miles from one town, and a hundred and fourteen miles from another. You learn to substitute. I've created a few new recipes out of necessity."

Serves 6 to 8

1 loaf unbaked bread (can use frozen purchased dough)
1 pound bacon
8 cups shredded cabbage
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper
3 eggs, beaten
1 1/2 cups cream or half-and-half
1/2 cup grated Swiss cheese (optional)

• Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
1. Roll out the bread dough about 1/4 inch thick and place it in a 9-inch pie pan. Crimp the edges, as you would a pie.
2. Cut the bacon into small pieces and brown them in a large heavy pot. Pour off all but 1 tablespoon of the grease. Stir in the shredded cabbage and cook over moderate heat, stirring, for 1 minute.
3. Over low heat, add the salt and pepper, eggs, cream and the cheese, if you are using it. Cook for 3 to 4 minutes, stirring. Put the mixture in the crust and bake for 30 minutes, or until the filling is set and the edges are golden brown.

Remember, folks, that in my book, cheese is NEVER optional. Cheese is essential. Also, if you got frozen dough for this, please thaw it according to package directions before starting. Do not try to roll out frozen dough.

You could buy your cabbage pre-shredded in a bag, if you're not keen on deconstructing a head of cabbage on your own. But, as Mary Frances over at the Gluten(-)Free Cooking School shows, it's cheaper, tastier, and just more pleasant to do it yourself. Go on over to GFCS, and see how easy it is. Plus, as Mary Frances says, "After a long day, it’s sometime really fun to hack into a large vegetable with a big, long knife."

My copy of The County Fair Cookbook is massively dog-earred, and I've yet to plot out just which recipes will show up on this blog. So, if you have a favorite fair, let me know, and I'll see if we can get up a recipe from there, or at least from nearby.

We'll Put Prunes In Anyting: Prune Pie

The one dish that says "Mom & Family" to me beyond all others is vinaterta, an Icelandic layered torte with stewed prunes between the layers. It's nice find out that the German side of her family also would put prunes in anything. From the Spratt/Bachman & Mellberg/McKenzie Family Cookbook 2008:

Prune Pie
Magdalena Berger Bachman
Neva Spratt Bachman

1 c. prunes - cooked and pitted (1 lb.)
Beat well and add
1/2 c. cugar
2 eggs
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 c. milk
dash salt
Put in crust and add strip top and bake.

Another recipe where you'd best know what the hell you're doing. Do you have a favorite pie crust recipe? Use it. Do you know what temperature your oven prefers for pies? Use it. And then we come to the prunes.

Dried, or fresh? A quick internet check shows recipes using both (sometimes in the same pie). And, yes, I do call fresh prunes "prunes" -- Grandpa had a prune tree in his side yard. Regardless!

When in doubt about a family recipe, call on family. I gave my mom a call, and she was sort of surprised by my question. "Dried, of course! Why?" I explained about not wanting to lead anyone astray, and through a twisty conversation, she assured me that the Bachman family prune pie was really very very very good, and then secured a promise that I would make it for her when next we are together.

My grandma died when I was three; I don't have first-hand memories of her. But, oh, the stories. Everyone says she was the best pie maker ever. Grandpa had an entire lot devoted to gardening, and that which he grew, she canned, or froze, or baked into pies and cakes. The lot is gone now; when Grandpa and Grandma Fran moved into assisted living, the house was sold and the lots divided. A new, big house was built, and it's more than a little bit strange to know the garden's gone. I don't know if the prune tree remains.

Easy As Pie

Got an extra set of refrigerated pie crusts lurking around? Why not throw together another pie for the Thanksgiving feast? It'll take 5 minutes of prep time, and it's as tasty as it is easy.

Easy As Pie

1 21 oz can cherry pie filling
1 16 oz can whole cranberry sauce
3 T cornstarch
honest dash or five of cinnamon
prepared crust for 2-crust pie

Preheat oven to 400°F. Mix together first 4 ingredients. Line pie plate with one of the crusts, fill with cranberry/cherry mixture, cover with second crust. Seal crust, vent, and place in hot oven. After 20 minutes, shield crust edge with aluminum foil. Total baking time: approx. 50 minutes. It'll be golden and bubbly when it's done. Let cool on a rack for an hour or so. Don't cut into it until it's cool, or you'll have messy slices that don't look like pie so much as goop with bits of crust. Still tasty, though.

If using refrigerated crust, total prep time on this pie is less than 5 minutes.

Folksy Wisdom; Pie Crust

Depression Era Recipes doesn't limit itself to recipes. No, it also faithfully reprints advertisements and folksy wisdom pieces of the day, including this one that frankly reminds me of my kooky grandma.

Her Ten Commandments

These are the new commandments ten
Which wives now make for married men

I. Remember that I am thy wife,
Whom thou must cherish all thy life.
II. Thou shalt not stay out late at night
When lodges, friends or clubs invite.
III. Thou shalt not smoke indoor or out,
Or chew tobacco round about.
IV. Thou shalt with praise receive my pies,
Nor pastry made by me despise.
V. My mother thou shalt strive to please,
And let her live with us in ease.
VI. Remember 'tis thy duty clear
To dress me well throughout the year.
VII. Thou shalt not be a drinking man,
But live on prohibition plan.
VIII. Thou shalt in manner mild and meek
Give me thy wages every week.
IX. Thou shalt not flirt, but must allow
Thy wife such freedom anyhow.
X. Thou shalt get up when baby cries,
And try the child to tranquilize.

These my commands from day to day
Implicitly thou shalt obey.

These Commandments are from Grandma Signe's recipe book

...so much one could say about that. I'm going to focus on Commandment IV. If anyone ever receives pie from me with anything other than praise? Badness will occur! Harsh thoughts and feelings! No more pie for that person ever!!! And who would ever despise my pastry?

But, let's face it: lots of people get freaked out at the thought of making a pie from scratch. Most of the hangups come from the crust making. Lucky for us, Depression Era Recipes has several foolproof pie crust options for us all. Let's take the first one, conveniently on the same page as Her Ten Commandments.

Pie Crust

4 T. boiling water
4 T. lard
1 1/4 cup flour
1 t. baking powder
Pinch of salt

Melt lard in hot water. Mix together the flour, baking powder and salt and stir this into the liquid. Place in the ice box until cold. Roll out thin and line tin.

I know, I know. Lard. There, I said it. Use lard. I said it again. (Heck, turn the page, and Depression Era Recipes will tell you how to render your own...)

What I like about this recipe (besides the unapologetic use of lard) is the method. Melting the fat, instead of trying to keep it cold! No cutting the cold fat into the flour, and trying to figure out when the globs are pea-sized! No food processor! No vinegar! No admonitions to chill your rolling pin, chill your board, chill your spoons, chill your forks, chill your everything. It seems so darned easy!

I have no clue how well it works. I'm intrigued.

Autumnal Equinox Means Pie Time; Kentish Apple and Cheese Pie

It's the Autumnal Equinox here in the Northern Hemisphere, and to me, that means it's time for soups, stews, braises, and all things related to apples and baking. It's pie time, boys and girls. I've a pot of split pea soup simmering on the stove for supper, and a bunch of apples waiting to be transformed into something yummy. Maybe they'll go into a pie, like this one from Favourite Kentish Recipes:

Kentish Apple and Cheese Pie

6 oz. puff or shortcrust pastry
1 1/2 lbs. cooking apples, peeled, cored, and thickly sliced
3-4 oz. granulated sugar
3-4 cloves
Small pinch of grated nutmeg
1/2 tea cup of water
4 oz. hard cheese, sliced

Set oven to 425°F or Mark 7. Using half the apples, put a layer into a greased 8 inch (approx.) pie dish. Sprinkle half the sugar over the apples. Lay the remaining apples on top and push the cloves into some of the apple slices. Add the remaining sugar, the nutmeg and the water and make a final layer with the cheese. Roll out the pastry and use it to cover the dish. Brush with a little milk and bake for approximately 40-45 minutes. Serves 4-6.

Oh, yes. Bake that cheese right into that pie!

This pie steps neatly around the issue of how to get a non-soggy bottom crust: omit it entirely. Yes, you'll be scooping more than slicing the pie, but it's still going to taste good, and you can savor all the buttery (or lardy) goodness of your top crust with extra abandon.

I'd experiment with other liquids to pour in. Apple juice, or cider (hard or not). Pear nectar. Crisp white wine. Something that brings some flavor to the party. I'm also tempted to use ground cloves, so no one has to navigate around a whole clove in their slice/scoop of pie.

Favourite Kentish Recipes; Appledore Chicken Pie

I've loved cookbooks since I was a wee thing, but I didn't start collecting them until I went to the U.K. with my mother, aunt, and sister for an extended holiday. I fell in love with a series of small cookbook booklets by J. Salmon Ltd. press, each representing a different region of Great Britain (no Northern Ireland, alas). This week, we'll look at the first one of these booklets, Favourite Kentish Recipes. Don't know where Kent is? It's in the bottom right-hand corner of England. The booklet was compiled by Pat Smith, with illustrations (very pretty ones, at that) by A. R. Quinton. There's no copyright date inside, but I bought the booklets in 1998, so I'll assume a 1990s copyright (for tagging purposes).

Appledore Chicken Pie

1 chicken, or joints, to give 1 1/2 lbs. of raw chicken meat
2 hard boiled eggs, sliced
2 or 3 rashers of bacon, de-rinded and chopped
1 tablespoon fresh herbs, finely chopped or 1 teaspoon dried herbs
Salt and pepper
1 1/2 oz. flour
8 oz. shortcrust pastry

Set oven to 375°F or Mark 5. Remove the chicken meat from the bones. Place the bones in a pan, cover with water, put on a lid and simmer for 2-3 hours to produce some stock. Roll the meat in seasoned flour and put a layer in a pie dish. Cover with the chopped bacon and egg slices. Finish with the remaining chicken. Sprinkle the herbs over the meat. Cover with a pastry lid, making a hole in the centre and bake for 1 hour. Reduce the temperature to 350°F or Mark 4 and cook for a further 1 hour. If the pastry appears to be browning too rapidly, protect with a piece of greaseproof paper. Remove from the oven and, through the hole in the pastry, top up with some of the hot stock from the bones. Serves 4.

If you're newer to cooking, you might not catch that the salt and pepper were supposed to go into the flour, seasoning it. You also might not be used to the term "shortcrust pastry." It's a basic pastry/pie dough, that's basically 1 part fat to 2 parts flour, with a little water. Because we live in the golden age of the internet, there is, of course, a website to help you out: ShortCrustPastry.com. No joke. If you're not up for making your own crust (or using a Pillsbury refrigerated pie crust, which even Chefly Husband will use in a pinch -- it tastes just fine), you can also use puff pastry for your pie lid. Mmm. Puff pastry.

I like these booklets in part because they translate themselves, early and often. Yes, gas mark whatever is listed, but also degrees Fahrenheit. Units of measurement tend to be given in "standard" as opposed to metric, but there's a ton of charts in the back to help you adjust to what you're used to.

For the bacon, you could use standard supermarket bacon... I'd recommend getting some thicker, dryer slices from the butcher, though. Or, if resources permit, get some proper Irish or English bacon rashers. ...just thinking of good English bacon makes me hunger for a hot English breakfast. How long until I go to Northern Ireland? Only 9 more months...