And so sing the rhubarb sitting on my counter:
Maybe maybe they’ll stay true
My seeds will cross and then take root
And leave you to an empty room
Lonely lonely that is you
Okay! Okay! So I couldn’t ignore the rhubarb anymore and knew what had to be done. Strawberry rhubarb pie! And so I got chopping and thought about Smitten Kitchen‘s superstitions about pies. Maybe it is true that pies can smell fear; if you’re certain your pie will be a mess, maybe it will become a non-fluffy crust, water-filled pie. But what about the filling? Can the rhubarb rebel in defiance of being ignored for so long on my counter? Can the lonely rhubarb make this pie a mess?
Photo Credit: Flickr: Chopped Rhubarb by FotoosVanRobin
I continue chopping the rhubarb and hulling the strawberries — thinking good thoughts. No, the pie will turn out well. I try and remember to keep all crust making ingredients cold. Ice cold. Smitten Kitchen says that despite 1/4 cup of corn starch in the filling, that the pie still turned out watery. So I set aside the rhubarb and strawberry mixture with sugar and wait for the sugar to get as much of their juice out as possible. I can then drain and place the fruit and sugar concoction with the rest of the filling ingredients inside the crust.
Crust:
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
10 tablespoons (about) ice water
Filling:
3 1/2 cups 1/2-inch-thick slices trimmed rhubarb (1 1/2 pounds untrimmed)
1 16-ounce container strawberries, hulled, halved (about 3 1/2 cups)
1/2 cup (packed) golden brown sugar
1/2 cup sugar
1/4 cup cornstarch
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 large egg yolk beaten to blend with 1 teaspoon water (for glaze)
The oven is pre-heated, the pie dish is ready and in the oven, and now I wait. It’s a good thing that my hindsvik crates arrived last week and now I have an empty apartment with an assortment of wooden crates to use as shelving and a Louis Ghost Chair to sit on, contemplating the fate of this pie. I am excited about the unexpected turn decorating my apartment has taken. This mixture of modern and vintage furniture goes well with pies and unlikely ice cream flavours. And I got thinking: even if the rhubarb rebels, I won’t be left to an empty room. I’ll be surrounded by all the history these crates carry on them. The smell of wood. The non-perfect texture of these crates, telling stories of their travels across Canada. And the Ghost Chair? Well, that one can hardly be seen, but oh boy, it does make me think about spices like nutmeg and the warm, nutty feeling they bring to the dishes they are added to, even if they can’t be seen.
Photo Credit: Hindsvik.com
And so I sit on the Ghost Chair and admire how this strawberry rhubarb pie looks so beautifully red on my new crates. Yes, the pie turned out well! I guess the rhubarb forgave me after all.