Something to go with the peanut butter ice cream: concord grape pie

I believe in the past I have written in this blog that I don't understand some of the expressions we use about food. Why, for example, are we "as American as apple pie" or "as normal as blueberry pie?" Surveys say that the United States' favorite pie is cherry. I can go for that, although if you did a survey of MY friends, you would get a lot of sentiment for peach, or other fruits. I don't think you'll get much of a response to apple pie. There may be multitudes of reasons for that, but the fact remains that if you ask a cook "do you ever make pie?" you will almost inevitably find out they make apple pie, and only apple pie.

All those apple pies, and all those people sighing and saying "oh well. I wish it were...."

The first time I made a grape pie, it was a revelation. It seemed to me to be something that woudl be dramatic - it is, tasty - it is indeed, and fun to make. Three for three. And then I was kind of stunned (I was much younger), to learn that no one in my circle had ever had one, let alone heard of one.

Years later, I found out that this may very well be one of those "regional" desserts that are known to the rest of the country by way of people moving from their home and taking their recipes with them. The finger lakes region of New York, where the best concord grapes grow, is famous for these pies. The city of Naples has a concord grape pie contest every year. And now that they're here, while peaches, nectarines, berries, and other summer favorites have either said "see you next year," or are clearly on their way for hiatus, it's time.

Concord grape pie is sometimes called "slipskin" pie. That's because the thick skin of the grapes allows you to hold them, squeeze them, and "slip" the skin off of them. You then have what many could rightly call a gross little ball of wet sweet "goo" in your hand, and what looks like a small, deflated, purple balloon.

Yes, the image is not much to work with, but bear with me here, huh? You're gonna be happy.

You need to start with two pounds of grapes on the stem (NEVER buy grapes that are not on the stem. By examining the stems, you can tell how fresh they are. A dry, hard stem is a sign those grapes are beyond their prime. The stems, like partners in an affair, should be subtle, sturdy, and invite your fingers to pluck their fruit).

I can't believe I wrote that. But it's staying. OK, so you remove the grapes from the stems (wash them first, if you're cooking this for Kevin. He'll know if you didn't), then put on an apron, and have two bowls in front of you. Squeeze the grapes so that the innards go into one bowl, and put the skins in the other. You're gonna use them both.

Now, take those white globs, put them in a sturdy pot, and cook them at gentle heat for about five minutes after they come to a boil. What you're doing is breaking down tissue, so you can get the seeds out.

Most recipes tell you to let these grapes cool completely before you go forward, but I don't see a need. Get your food mill, if you can find the very fine sieve filter (I never can), or a collander. Either way, press gently to get all the juice and pulp out, leaving behind the seeds. If you press too hard, I'm told that you will get "bitter overtones" from the seeds. I guess I am surrounded by too many bitter overtones. I never notice it. So you have this mess of grape pulp. Stir the skins back into them (incidentally, if you try to eat one of them now, you will find it very tough and have your doubts. Patience, dear ones).

Now, stir 3/4 cups of sugar into those grapes and taste. You may want to add another quarter cup of sugar, this is up to you. Also, add a whopping 3 tablespoons of cornstarch, and the juice of a slice of lemon. The lemon really doesn't do much other than fix the color (you'll notice a change as you go from a very dark purple, to one with blue overtones). You need all that cornstarch because this is going to be your thickener for what is a very wet pie.

So, that's your filling. And now we're going to make our dreaded pie crust. This is a double crust pie. You'll need two sticks of unsalted butter, 2.25 cups of all purpose flour, a heaping quarter teaspoon of salt, a quarter teaspoon of baking powder, and a tablespoon of cider vinegar. You'll also need ice water by your side.

Mix up all those dry ingredients and put them in a bag, in your freezer. Then take a stick of butter, cut it into small cubes, and freeze it, too. Cube the other stick and put it in the fridge.

Leave everything overnight if you can, or at least a couple of hours. When you're ready to start baking, put the dry goods into a food processor and pulse a few times. Then add the refrigerated butter, and process (NOT pulsing), for 20 seconds. NOW add the frozen butter, and pulse to the size of peas. Add the vinegar, and 5 tablespoons of ice water to the crust, and pulse about 5-6 times. Press a bit between your fingers. Does it hold together? If it does, move on. If it doesn't, add up to two more tablespoons of ice water. Dump the stuff out and gather it into a ball, and then divide it into two halves, putting each in a separate bag. Refrigerate this for at least an hour. Again, overnight is better.

When you are ready to bake it, take out the piecrust and let them come to cold room temperature. This is going to take a few hours. Heavily flour your surface, and roll out one piece, turning every three rolls or so, to try to keep a good circle (I never do). You want to roll this out until it's big enough to make a 12 inch circle (don't rely on your friends. Men always think 10 inches is 12, and women always think 14 is 12. Use a ruler).

Did I just write that? Oh, I guess I did. Okay, position this in an 8 or 9 inch pie pan and gently push it in. There will be overlap, and that's okay. Put your filling into this and put the pie aside, while you start preheating the oven to 425.

Now, do for the other half of the dough what you did for the first one. Cover the pie with this dough. If you moisten the edges of the first one, it will be easier to bring them together. You don't have to, though.

You are going to have a fair amount of extra crust on the edge, and you should trim some of that away, but leave enough to make a nice , thick rim when you push them together. I like to use fork tines for decoration (ON THE PIE!!!), but you don't have to. You DO have to cut some vents in the top, though. Some people get really crafty and cut a bunch of grapes pattern on the top. More power to them. I make a few slits in the pattern of a four point star. Then put the pie on a cookie sheet, and put it into the oven. You'll want to bake this for 45-50 minutes. You'll see thick, dark, very dangerous looking juices bubbling up, and this is exactly what you want. After the 45/50 minutes, carefully take everything out of the oven, and let it sit until it's cool.

DO NOT refrigerate this pie. It will be very unhappy if you do. If you've made it right, when you cut this pie, the filling will look like it's just about to ooze out of the shell, but it never will.

The peanut butter ice cream that I wrote about before is perfect for this, but frankly, this is a case where I want vanilla ice cream, and ONLY vanilla ice cream.

This pie is going to stay fine , stored at room tempearture, for two days, but it won't last that long.


I have been very fortunate to be able to take recipes for this pie from three invaluable sources. One is Rose Levy Bernbaum, whom I've written about before. Another is the late and lamented Richard Sax, whom I've also mentioned before. But perhaps the single most important person in the development of this recipe is "Buzzard Creek Irene." Buzzard Creek is the name of an upstate ny vineyard, and they sell their oversupply of grapes at the farmers' market. That's where I get mine. Irene is the sweetest woman you could ever meet. She told me about the Naples pie festival, and gave me pointers on how she makes her concord grape pie. Her approach allowed me to simplify the recipe in many ways, although I will admit, this is not one that screams "EEEEAZY." But it's worth it.

Now's the time. Add it to your repertoire, or start making something new.