There is perhaps nothing as compelling as a secret. Except for maybe a family secret having to do with food. I heard about crumb pie a long time before I tasted it. And every time it was mentioned its legend only grew. My friend Shannah’s grandmother Helen Striker knew how to make crumb pie. It was her recipe and apparently no one else in the family knew how it was made. On the rare occasions when she baked it everyone devoured it. But for decades Helen refused to reveal how it was made which seemed to only infuriate her children and grandchildren who loved it.
I thought this aspect of the legend of the pie was hilarious and perfectly in character for Helen who was a remarkable woman with a slightly irreverent sense of humor. I expect that in any other family something like a pie recipe would not be a very big deal. The matriarch any family would probably be delighted that her family liked the pie and more than willing to share it. That Helen was oblique about exactly how the pie was made was perfect in some kind of elaborate Andy Kaufmanesque way. The more the family professed their love for the pie, the less inclined she seemed to share the details of how it was produced.
When Shannah first told me about the crumb pie I peppered her with questions: What did it look like? Taste like? What kind of flavors were in it? Could she guess what some of the spices might be? Much to my surprise, she was mystified. Considering Shannah’s usually acute palate and that fact that she actually has schooling as a pastry chef, it was a rare occasion that she could not hone in on the flavors in something. Helen’s subterfuge was growing more entertaining with every mention.
Then something remarkable happened. Though Helen had not made the pie in years, she suddenly announced that she would not only be willing to teach Shannah how to make it but she would allow me to come to her house on Camano Island, Washington and film the process.
Apparently the pie had its genesis with the family of her husband, Shannah’s grandfather, Paul Striker. It was Pennsylvania Dutch in origin adapted for the hardships of the Midwestern prairie where they had limited ingredients. The pie was the simplest possible: made out of common ingredients of the farm: lard, butter and cream, along with flour, sugar and salt procured from the general store.
After preheating the oven to 400 degrees, the crust is made with 2 cups flour, 3/4 cup of lard, 1/2 teaspoon of salt and about 5 Tablespoons of whole cream. Put the flour and salt into a bowl, add the butter and use a fork to work it into the dry ingredients throughly until the mixture has a light, crumbly texture. Then the cream is added gradually and worked in until the crumbly mixture forms a cohesive pie crust dough. Then the mixture is divided in two. Turn out onto a floured surface and rolled out until the dough forms a lower pie crust that is big enough to fit in the bottom of a standard pie pan. Trim the excess from around the edges of the pie pan and then use your fingers to crimp the edges all the way around.
For the filling: In a bowl combine one cup flour with one cup sugar. Mix evenly. Then add 8 Tablespoons of slightly softened butter. Incorporate the butter gradually and judiciously. The goal is to have a fine, “sandy” crumble similar to the texture of the pie crust before it was rolled out. Pour the crumbled filling into the pie crust. Then the pie goes into the oven for 10 minutes at 400 degrees. This initial baking period will brown the crust. After 10 minutes, reduce the temperature to 350. The pie will continue to brown as the oven is still hot.
Measure 1/3 cup of whole cream and pour evenly in a spiral onto the top of the pie. Then cook for another 15 minutes. The crumb pie should be a beautiful golden brown when it comes out.
Serve it to your friends and family. If they love it and ask for the recipe, absolutely refuse.
Crumb Pie from christopher boffoli on Vimeo.
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