12 Years a Slab Pie
I never sought to make a slab pie. After all, pies are meant to be round, and corner-less. In fact, I feel similarly about pizza pies — thus stems my distrust of the "Sicilian" or "Grandma" slice. Sorry, but actually, not sorry. But a little sorry, because I don't like to offend people.
To refresh: rectangles? Not cool. "Slab" doesn't even sound appetizing; it leans toward the grotesque, or a block of concrete. Then again, desperate times call for desperate measures. By desperate, I mean I was having a nice time prepping food for a very fun Oscar-themed event on Sunday with my former roommate and her boyfriend.
We began our Oscar-viewing-hosting tradition in our former East Village apartment last year. And, just as we did one year ago, we tasked one another to come up with punny, Oscar-nomination-themed names for each of the dishes and drinks we'd be serving. (Stay tuned for Wolf of Walnut Chocolate Chip Cookies, Poker Apple Chips and Baked Abscamembert, and I Am the Mushroom Cap of This Boat.) We are, most unfortunately, the nerdiest.
As luck (what's that?) would have it, one of my sillier puns was inspired by none other than the Best Picture winner. I present: 12 Years a Slab Pie.
Filled with a blend of apples, pears, and freshly grated ginger, it in no way relates to the film for which it was named. But it tastes like victory.
Pear, Apple, & Ginger Slab Pie
adapted from Smitten Kitchen
For the crust:
- 3 3/4 cups flour
- 1 1/2 tbsp sugar
- 1 1/2 tsp salt
- 3 sticks cold, unsalted butter, cut into cubes
- 3/4 cups ice-cold water
For the filling:
- 3 Macintosh apples, peeled and chopped into 1-inch chunks
- 3 Red Bartlett pears, chopped into 1-inch chunks
- A squeeze of lemon juice
- 2/3 cup granulated sugar
- 3 tbsp cornstarch
- 1 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
- 1/4 tsp nutmeg
- 1/4 tsp allspice
- 1 tsp freshly grated ginger
- 1/8 tsp salt
Also:
- 1 egg, beaten
Mix dry ingredients for the crust in a large bowl. Add butter pieces, and work into the flour mixture with a pastry blender or two forks until only bits the size of peas remain. Drizzle in 1/4 cup of ice water and continue to work it into the dry ingredients as you did with the butter. Continue to drizzle in tiny amounts of water until the dough just barely comes together. Work a bit more with your hands until a dough ball has formed. Divide into two, flatten into discs, wrap in plastic, and refrigerate for at least an hour.
Meanwhile, mix the ingredients for the filling in a large bowl and set aside.
Line a 12x17 baking sheet with parchment. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees with the rack in the upper-middle.
Once the dough is ready, remove one disc from plastic and roll out on a well-floured surface into a rectangle the size of your baking sheet. Note: this process is truly the worst. Make sure you use ample flour, and that you have plenty of room. If you totally blow it, just press the pie dough into the bottom of the pan. For the top crust, though, you've only got one shot. Good luck!
Place bottom crust dough into your lined baking sheet, ideally with an overhang. Pour filling into it, spreading evenly. Roll out your top crust and carefully transfer it to the top of your filling. Lift the overhang from the bottom crust up to cover the edge of the top and pinch together to seal. Cut air vents across the top of the pie, then brush the entire thing with your egg wash.
Bake the pie for 40-50 minutes, until the top is golden and the juices are bubbling.