Beware the Pi of March -- Perfect Pumpkin & My Mom's Fabulously Flaky Crust

All right... I'll grant you that pumpkin pie in the middle of March is pretty unconventional.  But hear me out.

I love pumpkin pie.  I really do.  When I was growing up, I looked forward to Thanksgiving for one and only one reason:  pumpkin pie.  I kid you not.  My mother's crust was to die for and the filling was perfect--not the blonde, barely pumpkiny fillings of some pies, nor the dark, overly spicy fillings of others.  It was right in between.  But then Thanksgiving was over.  No more pumpkin pie for another year.  This was not to be borne. 

But then.... I came up with a great idea.  I asked my mother if she'd make me a pumpkin pie instead of cake for my birthday.  Oh, yeah.  Pumpkin pie in April!  (You would think that if I was this desperate, I'd just learn to make it.  But if you thought that, you don't know me that well.)  Even after I got married, if I was visiting my parents around my birthday, someone would make me pumpkin pie.

One year, that was my sister, Erin.  Now, Erin is one of my family members with State Fair ribbons to her credit.  She can whip out a fabulous pie in less time than it takes some people to get themselves a decent breakfast.  I decided to follow her to her house and watch a master at work.  This was the year that I was finally going to figure out pie making--or more specifically, pie crust making. You see, it's the crust that's the problem, isn't it?  For a recipe with so few ingredients and so few steps in the "method," there really are so many things than can and do go wrong.  The filling is easy; mix together a bunch of stuff in a bowl and pour.  But the crust?  Too wet.  Too dry.  Falling apart when rolling out.  Sticking and tearing when transferring to the pie plate.  Didn't roll it out big enough.  Rolled it out too big, so it's thin and tears.  Wet dough, so the edge sags and falls in while baking.  Aaaaagh!

I had been looking for answers in cookbooks and magazines for years.  The list of dos and don'ts is huge.  I sat perched on a chair in Erin's kitchen waiting for the big revelation.  While she worked, I asked her questions.  "Do you chill your bowls?"  Erin looked up and blinked at me in surprise and then shook her head.  "The shortening?"  "Ice water?"  She blinked again.  She was using the same recipe that our mother had used forever.  She seemed to be making it exactly the same way that I had been making it:  stir together the dry ingredients in a regular room-temperature bowl.  Cut in the room-temperature shortening with a pastry cutter.  Add cold water straight from the tap and toss.

And then I saw it--the one thing that she did differently.  Erin didn't pour in the water; she sprinkled it.  Lightly.  Just a teaspoon at a time.   A sprinkle followed by vigorous tossing.  Another sprinkle.  More vigorous tossing with the fork.  Huh.  It didn't seem to be taking that much longer than my impatient method of pouring in 1/3 of the required water at a time, but it gave her much, much more control over the amount of moisture in the dough.  She stopped at the "just enough" point--when the dough had almost completely clumped together and then gathered the dough bits into a perfect ball.  It was moist and didn't crumble, but it wasn't sticky either.  No temptation to add more flour.  She just rolled it out, fitted it into the pie plate, and crimped the edges.  Magic.

Now, Erin may have changed her method since then; it's been almost two decades since she made that perfect pie for my birthday.  Perhaps she uses ice water now and chills her bowls and everything else associated with making perfect pie crust.  Perhaps she chills the dough for an hour after making it or rolls it out between sheets of waxed paper.  But the one thing that made the biggest difference to me was the idea that the water needs to be added just a tiny bit at a time.  Pie crusts are still frustrating--the bane of my existence on some days, but I do find making them a little easier than before. 

I've noticed a trend of late in making pie crust in a food processor.  I tried that once; it certainly is easier.  But in spite of what Martha Stewart may tell you, it almost always results in a crust with a much more dense and less flaky texture than one made with a pastry cutter.  This is because there is a tendency to pulverize the fat with the blade.  Smaller fat pieces yield smaller holes.  It's that simple.  And by the way, there is nothing at all wrong with that.  Here at Cromar Valley, we frequently take shortcuts without the tiniest bit of guilt.  (We've even used--gasp!--frozen crust from the grocery store from time to time.)  But if you are trying to make a flaky, old-fashioned pie crust, you really do have to take the time to make it the old fashioned way.  

One more tip:  This recipe yields exactly one 9" crust with little room for error.  I find it easier to have a bit of extra dough for that headache-producing roll out process, so I usually double it and then use the extra to press into tartlet pans to make crusts for fresh berries or pudding--or to roll out and make "pie crust cookies".  (Cut them out, lightly spray or butter, and sprinkle with cinnamon/sugar mixture.  Bake for about 10 min at 450F.)  If you are going to fill a deep dish pie plate or a 10" or larger plate, or if you are going to need a top crust, you will certainly need to double the recipe. 

So Yeah! for Pi Day!  The perfect excuse to eat pumpkin pie in March. 

My Mom's Fabulously Flaky Old-Fashioned Pie Crust -- Yield:  One 9" crust
1 1/3 cups all purpose flour
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 cup shortening
3-4 Tbsp cold water

Stir flour and salt together.  Cut in shortening with a pastry cutter until the shortening is in pieces the size of small peas.  Add water a teaspoon at a time and toss well with a fork until dough is moistened but not sticky; add only enough water to get the dough to cling together.  (This depends on the humidity of the air, and so forth. Dough should be moist enough to start to gather together, somewhere in the magical place in between crumbly and mushy/sticky.)  Gently press together into a ball without kneading or undue amounts of "working" the dough.  Roll out on a lightly floured board with a floured rolling pin.  Fold in half or fourths and gently lift into pie plate.  Unfold, trim, and scallop edges.

Perfect Pumpkin Pie  -- Yield:  filling for 2 pies. 
1 large can of pumpkin (about 3 cups)
1 1/2 cups brown sugar
1 tsp salt
1 tsp ginger
2 tsp cinnamon
6 eggs
1 cup water
2 1/2 cups evaporated milk

Combine pumpkin, sugar, and spices in a large bowl.  Add eggs and beat thoroughly.  Add water and milk gradually, mixing thoroughly so that all of the pumpkin is diluted.  Pour into two 9" pastry-lined pie plates.  (I like to set my pie plates on the oven rack and then fill them.  I think that is easier than trying to transfer full pie plates without sloshing them.)  Bake at 450F for 10 minutes, and then turn down the temperature to 325 and bake for another 30-40 minutes, or until the mixture doesn't adhere to a knife inserted about 1-1 1/2" from the edge.  (I use the jiggle test rather than the knife test.  If you give the pie plate a gentle shake, the center of the pie filling should only jiggle the tiniest bit.  It will continue to cook for a bit after removing from the oven, so don't over bake.)