BA’s Best: Rhubarb Strawberry Pie
For those who want a slightly more lip-puckering rendition of the classic strawberry rhubarb pie, there is this: a rhubarb-centric, walk-the-line between sour and sweet celebration of everyone’s favourite perennial vegetable (that’s right – rhubarb is a vegetable! What a silly little world we live in.) In this pie, strawberry gets to play the role of amiable sidekick, always getting out of the way in time to showcase the main hero, rhubarb. While you could increase the sugar quantity if for some bizarre and inexplicable reason you wanted a rhubarb-forward pie that was more sweet than tart (which again, makes no sense, for if you love rhubarb you presumably love its inherent tartness), I think I’ve made it very clear that I don’t see the point in doing so. If you’re looking for a pie that is predominantly sweet, check out the other post instead perhaps. Otherwise, it is assumed that you’re a fun little thrill-seeker looking for your next flavour edge and hoping to find it in the sweet pucker of mid-summer rhubarb.
**Please note: this recipe requires a 9-inch pie plate (deep-dish)
BA’s Best: Rhubarb Strawberry Pie
Taken directly from BA’s Best arsenal
Makes 1 double-crust pie (serves roughly 8-10 people)
Ingredients:
Crust:
3 ½ cups all-purpose flour, measured correctly + more for dusting
2 tbsp white sugar
1 ½ tsp kosher salt
1 ½ cups (3 sticks) unsalted butter, cut into cubes and well-chilled
¼ cup vodka, chilled thoroughly
2 tbsp apple cider vinegar
Filling and Assembly:
1 ¼ lb rhubarb, cut into ½-inch pieces
1 lb strawberries, hulled and halved (or quartered if very large)
1 tsp vanilla
½ cup white sugar
1/3 cup light brown sugar, packed
5 tbsp cornstarch
1 tsp finely grated lemon zest
Pinch of kosher salt
1 large egg
1 tbsp raw or coarse sugar, for sprinkling (though white sugar would be fine too)
Directions:
Start by preparing the dough. Whisk together the flour, sugar, and salt in a large bowl. Run your hands under VERY cold water and dry thoroughly. Toss the cold butter cubes into the dry ingredients to coat, then, working quickly and with vigour, rub the butter into the flour mixture with your fingertips. The goal is to sort of smash-rub the butter into the dry ingredients to create large, shaggy pieces of “dough” (though some of the pieces will be flatter, others more irregular – this is fine). Work quickly to avoid letting the butter soften at all. Stop once all of the cubes have been smashed. In a small bowl, stir together the vodka, vinegar, and ¼ cup ice water. Drizzle the cold liquids over the “dough” then mix with a fork until it just begins to come together. Knead the dough gently in the bowl until a very rough lump comes together (there will still be lots of dry bits). Transfer the dough (in clumps likely, as it probably won’t stick together much yet) to a clean work surface. Drizzle 1 tbsp of ice water over any remaining dry bits of dough left in the bowl and knead to bring together. Add to the dough on your work surface. Divide the dough lump in half. Working with one half at a time, press the dough into a single mass, tucking in any dry bits and pat down to form a ¾-inch thick block. Use a bench scraper or a knife to divide the dough into 4 pieces. Stack the pieces on top of one another, tucking any dry bits in-between the layers. Press down to combine, flattening the dough down into a single mass. Shape the dough into a ¾-inch thick disk and wrap tightly in plastic. Give the dough a bit of a shaping within the plastic to ensure that any dry bits get incorporated into the disk. Repeat with the second half of dough. Chill both disks for 2 hours or (even better) overnight.
Once the dough has chilled, preheat the oven to 425 degrees F. Let the dough sit at room temperature for ~5 minutes to soften up slightly. Working with 1 disk at a time, roll onto the dough onto a lightly-floured work surface to 1/8-inch thick. Place the rolled dough on a lined baking sheet and chill while you roll the second disk. Repeat with the second disk (you can place it on a piece of parchment paper atop the first rolled disk). Chill while you prepare the filling. In a large bowl, toss together the rhubarb, strawberries, white sugar, brown sugar, cornstarch, lemon zest, and salt. Toss well to coat all the fruit.
Carefully transfer 1 of the dough rounds to the pie dish. This is usually easier if you loosely fold the dough into quarters and then place the point in the centre of the pie dish before unfolding. You may also need to let the dough sit at room temperature for 5 minutes prior to transferring, especially if it feels stiff. Allow the dough to just slump into the sides of the pan without doing any tugging or stretching, as this will come back to bite you in the ass later on in the form of shrinkage. Gently press the dough into the edges of the dish to completely line it. Trim the overhang to ~1 inch long. Scrape in the fruit filling and smooth the top. Lay the remaining dough round over the filling and trim to leave a ½-inch overhang. Fold the edge of the bottom round up and over the top crust, pressing together to seal. Crimp the edges as desired.
Place the pie on a foil-lined baking sheet (or risk burning the crap out of your baking sheet due to juice spillover) and chill in the freezer for 10 minutes. Cut some slashes across the top of your pie as venting slits (I like doing large, staggered slashes, though you can also do smaller delicate ones). Bake for 5 minutes then reduce the oven temperature to 375 degrees F. Continue to bake until the crust is a deep golden-brown and the juices are thick and bubbling, ~75-90 minutes. You may need to tent the pie with foil if your oven runs hot to avoid over-darkening the crust. If you have a clear pie plate you can also check the bottom of the dish to ensure that the bottom is browned.
Transfer the pie to a wire rack and let cool COMPLETELY (this means at least 4 hours – sorry!) Please please please let your pie set before cutting into it, or you will end up with pie soup. Delicious, but ugly pie soup. Once cooled, cut into fat wedges and crown with mounds of dairy. Did you ever know that you’re my hero?
