Rhubarb Pie and Grandma

Hello all,

Today I want to talk about my grandma, and about pie.
Mostly because they have to do with each other in my story, but also cause grandmas and pie usually go together, don’t they?

So here’s my story, I hate pie.

The crust is dry or burnt or flavorless more often then it is not. The filling has a tendency to be overly sweet, mushy or it tastes like the fruit is from a can that’s been hanging out in the back of the pantry, saved in case of apocalypse or something worse – like seriously not having anything else to eat and you’re on the verge of starvation.

Like I said, I’m not a fan of pie.

EXCEPT when it’s my grandma’s pie (cliche, I know).
I swear though, nobody does pie better than my grandma, Pauline.

Maybe it’s because she grew up on a farm full of fruit orchards in Canada with a big family full of hungry boys, and nothing warms you up like a hearty slice of pie in cold weather.

Maybe she makes such gosh darn good pie because when she grew up she went and had a big family (this time full of girls) and worked as a nurse so making pie was a good way to unwind after a long day of work and taking care of all her little ones.

Maybe, it’s cause now her 5 kids have all grown up and gotten married and had tons of babies themselves and the staple of every family gathering are Grandma’s pies.

Basically has had to stay on her pie game her whole life.

I have been thinking lately though, that if my grandma can make excellent pie, then maybe I can too. I might just have that pie making gene stowed somewhere in me.

She makes a most wonderful apple pie, a mouthwatering crusty and crispy pecan pie, pumpkin pie with filling so smooth and topped with leaf shaped crust pieces that will make you squeal with delight, but my absolute favorite pie is her rhubarb.

Rhubarb is divinely unique and not the most common of pies, its bitter when uncooked but addicting and tart when cooked and is absolutely positutely my favorite of Grandma’s pies.

So, while I was in LA for a few days for my dad’s birthday I cornered my granny with a pie cutter and said “Lady, you better give me your recipe for Rhubarb pie or I’ll slice you and put you in a pie!”


It really went more like this “Granny, you make the best pie in the whole gosh darn world, would you share your most delectable recipe for Rhubarb pie so that I may continue the family tradition.” Then granny smiled with her adorable, non-dentured, smile and said “Oh of course, honey girl!” That’s what she calls me, honey girl. I love my grandma.

Sidenote: I incidentally recently painted my kitchen table a color named “Rhubarb” and while slicing the stalks for the pie I decided to gauge just how well it matched

God damn that’s a match!

Moving on

What you’ll need:

For the most buttery and flaky crust:

2 1/2 cups flour, plus a little extra for rolling

1 stick of butter, cubed and frozen

1 tsp salt

1 tsp sugar

8 Tbs water, ice cold

For the luscious filling:

5 cups Rhubarb, chopped into 1 inch pieces

1 1/4 cup sugar, I used brown sugar

1/4 cup cornstart

2 Tbs lemon juice

1 tsp ground cinnamon

1/4 tsp salt

1 1/2 Tbs butter

What to do with it:

For the crust:

Combine flour, sugar, salt in a food processor and lightly pulse

Gradually add in the cubed frozen butter. I’ve learned that frozen butter is the secret to excellent pie crust. Pulse until the butter hunks are the size of your pinky nail

Now add the water, 1 Tbs at a time keeping watch of the dough’s consistency (flour has different absorbancy levels, so while I needed all 8 Tbs, you may only need 6 or 7). You want the dough to just stick together when you press it together between your fingers

Take the dough and squish it on the counter under your hands to break up the butter a little more to encourage that, oh so, desirable flaky crust

When you’re done smushing it around roll it into a ball and cut in 2 pieces then form those into 2 flat patties

Dust the two pieces with flour, wrap in plastic wrap and set to chill in the fridge for a little more than an hour

Once the hour is up, take out and let them soften for about 5 minutes…chill and then soften? I know, just do it

Take a floured rolling pin and roll out one patty on a floured surface until it is about a foot across, the edges don’t have to be perfect as you will be trimming them anyway

Fold in half and place inside your baking dish, I used my cast iron skillet since I don’t actually have a pie pan

Gently unfold to fill the pan and press into the edges

For the filling:

Preheat oven to 425

Place chopped Rhubarb into pie crust

Mix together sugar, cornstarch, salt, cinnamon and lemon juice in a bowl

Drizzle over rhubarb and gently mix around with your hands to coat

Dab with pieces of butter

Cover with the other patty of crust, that’s been rolled out, of course

You can cover the pie in a few ways, the coverall method in which case you would slit holes in the top to allow it to breath

OR the rustic way where you cut the rolled out dough into 1 inch strips and weave it – that’s what I chose to do

If you opt for this method just pinch the ends together with the bottom crust to close it off

*DON’T do what I did and forget to add 1 cup of the sugar – the copy of the recipe my granny gave me is old so the 1 1/4 cup sugar looked like just 1/4 cup. So there I was thinking to myself “God, who says pie is unhealthy, there’s only a 1/4 of a cup of sugar!” And anyone who has had unsweetened rhubarb can imagine my surprise when I first sampled a teeny bit of the filling through the pie crust. So there I was with an almost baked pie that was pretty nasty. In the event you did do that here’s the fix: take the extra 1 cup and mix with the tiniest amount of water to make it pasty and painstakingly drip it through the slots of the pie top. Then slosh the pie around with enough force to mix the filling, but not spill it. It’s an art, my friends, and I am here to say that I think I have mastered it.

The conclusion: The pie was delicious, the filling had texture and was tart yet sweet, and crust that wasn’t dry, overall a huge pie success for my first time.

But there’s just something about grandma’s pie.

A Weekend Away

Hello there!

I am terribly sorry for the lack of posting that’s been going on. Being a fourth year journalism major, puts a major crimp in my free time.

For the past few months Matt and I have been trying to take a few days off and visit his mom and step-dad at their new house up in the mountains of Northern California. They moved to a house that sits on 46 acres in a town called Stonyford – population 250. It’s the gosh darn country out there, and we have been itching to try a hand at it. This last weekend we got our chance. It was especially great since this weekend was Easter, because my spring break never falls around Easter, I’ve never gotten to fly home to spend it with my family, so getting to spend it with Matt’s was beyond appreciated.

Our transportation situation is an interesting one, Stonyford is 3 hours away (without traffic) which means its really like 4 1/2 hours away, and neither of us have a car. So his momma, Cherice, had to drive down to get us, only to turn around for another long drive. God bless that woman.

We left Friday afternoon after Matt got out of class and we had to stop at a few stores before heading up to the mountains, so we didn’t get there until after dark. We walked into a house with a fire blazing in the black iron fireplace in the middle of the room, welcome to the country!

We got a tour of the house and then of the barn. Matt found one of his mom’s hunting hats and it was over from there. He fell in love and insisted on posing in front of 2 elk that his mom and step-dad have hunted and are storing in the barn for now.

He was born to be a hunter, no?

We went to bed shortly thereafter (2am), cause we were pooped and wanted to be up early on Saturday. We got to stay in the loft of the barn that is in the process of being converted into a little apartment, so sweet and cozy.

Saturday morning, we were woken up to repeated knocking on the door…only every time we looked, nobody was there! We were like “what the heck?! whose playing a joke on us?!” Turns out, it was a woodpecker, oh the country life!

We got up around 8am, well, I played a little joke on Matt and told him it was 11am cause he was moanin’ and groanin’ about how tired he was.

I know, I know, I’m such a trickster.

When we stepped outside the loft our breath was taken away. It was dark when we arrived last night, so we got our first look at the sweeping views in the early morning sunshine.

After gasping at the views, the trees, and the sheer vastness of the countryside we headed to the main house for a big country breakfast; bacon, eggs, bagels, and coffee. Lots of coffee.

His folks are in the process of renovating the main house as well, so please excuse the painters tape and patched holes!

The barn!

The main house!

After breakfast Cherice and I whipped up some Chocolate Raspberry Swirl Brownies for the Hillbilly Olympics we would be attending in the afternoon – more on that later.

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