I made two pie crusts this weekend. Not just regular crusts, either—I made the worst pie crusts in the history of pastry. The phrase “I’ve had worse,” would have been a compliment.
In my defense, I’d never made crusts before. But even that doesn’t explain the sheer awfulness of what I created. My crusts were so thick and tough that they could not be cut or chewed without effort. They were so sturdy, they functioned as disposable plates. I’m not convinced that they were actually compostable.
Somehow, by blending flour, sugar, salt, butter and water, I’d managed to create a material that could be used to strengthen plaster, plug up leaks in a foundation or fill potholes.
To add insult to injury, one of the pies was also undercooked, so it had no redeeming qualities whatsoever. Since I hate wasting food, I gave that pie to a friend—a friend who refuses to admit that anything might be inedible. This is a guy who believes expiry dates are dares…a guy who believes a 26-year-old can of peas is still “just fine”…a guy who once made—and somehow managed to eat—beef ribs that he’d pan-fried for just five minutes. We haven’t heard from him since he drove off with the pie. I fear my crust may have killed him.
After everyone else left, I found the Martha Stewart baking show I’d taped several weeks ago…and then forgotten to watch. Martha carefully explained the 10 essential steps for a perfect pie crust. Turns out I botched a few of the steps—10 of them, to be precise.
So I’m borrowing my oldest daughter’s food processor, I’ve printed out Martha’s recipe and I’m trying again. This weekend we’re having chocolate cream pie. Or we’re having chocolate pudding on a disposable crust plate. I’ll let you know how it goes.