Or Galette, or Crostata, or open-face pie, or bottom crust pie or as Alex said, ‘Oh. I thought it would have a lump in the middle, you know, like a hat’. It’s worth noting at this point that a strawberry pie was his request, thus he had a mental image of its appearance.
His disappointment didn’t affect his ability to eat two slices though, so disgard your worry.
The pastry is a Nigel Slater recipe and is really quick to knock together. You only chill it for the length of time it takes you to prepare the fruit, so no waiting around for upwards of three hours.
It could have taken a little more sugar for my liking, but we had some custard with it which sweetened it up nicely.

I’m not a fan of strawberries (unless they’re wild – in variety, that is; not in nature) but I have discovered that I like them cooked. Alex said that it tasted a little like jam, at which point it struck us that jam is the taste of cooked strawberries, rather than the pie tasted a little like jam. Oh dear. You had to be there, OK? So a little like jam, but not as sweet as jam and certainly fresher-tasting.
Yum.

Preheat the oven to GM6.
Add the sliced cold unsalted butter to the flour

and rub it in until it looks like breadcrumbs.

stir in 2 tblsp cold water and stir lightly,

then form into a disc and stick it in the fridge whilst you prep the fruit.

I got a punnet of dear little strawberries from the market. They were oddly small, but very fragrant.
Weighed them and they were about 450g.

Hulled them, halved them and sprinkled with 2 tbsp cornflour and 2 tbsp sugar (would have added more, in hindsight)

Combined them all together and sat to one side whilst I dealt with the pastry.

I floured a piece of baking parchment and rolled the pastry out to a large (kind of) circle. Somewhere in the region of 12″. Not to brag.
I piled the strawberries in the centre, as one does with these hat-less pies, but left the juices in the bowl. Trust me. Strawberries do not need additional liquid.

To gather the edges up, I lifted a bit of the paper and encouraged the pastry to nestle on to the strawberries, then lifted up the next bit, repeat, repeat.

You have to support the end of the previous piece to encourage a bit of a pleat, but don’t fret – it kind of does it by itself and I find that the lifting of the paper is actually an easier way to get the pastry up high over the filling as opposed to grabbing bits by hand and risking a tear.

All tucked in?…up? Huh.

Once all the pastry is pointing towards the middle, brush with milk and sprinkle with demerara sugar.

Pretty!

Bake for around 40 mins. Expect lots of juice – I actually spooned some out of the tin after about 35 mins because I was worried the crust would get too soggy and it was fine. I don’t know whether this means you should also pour some juice away – have a look when you bake it and if you’re worried about it flooding, pour the juice into a jug. You can always pour it over the cooked pie when you serve it.
I explained to Alex that this was one of the reasons I chose to make an open pie – the juice issue. I explained that this way there was at least the opportunity for the juice to partially evaporate – whether the strawberries choose to evaporate their juices was beyond my control – but if the pie was lidded they would have no chance at all.
We had an interesting discussion about the profound nature of choices and the mechanics of evaporation whilst enjoying this dessert, but how much of it he retained, I wouldn’t like to say. His eyes were a little glazed, but that could have been the runny custard.

I have developed a disturbing inability to make Bird’s custard. I can make proper custard with the perils of egg yolks, but custard powder and milk? Weird every time. Sometimes lumpy, sometimes watery, sometimes not sweet enough, sometimes too sweet. It’s like an extreme sport – you never know how the custard will turn out.
Still, I keep chipping away at it.
The pie – with some excess juice removed

Once out of the oven, sprinkle with some more sugar and transfer it to a serving plate. I slid a long spatula between the pie and the paper a few times, then put it on to the plate whilst simultaneously sliding away the paper. It had the potential for disaster written all over it, so do take care.

Serve in slices with dodgy or most excellent custard. Or ice cream. Or cream. Or nothing at all.

—–
Strawberry Pie
pastry from Nigel Slater’s ‘Real Cooking’
PRINT THIS RECIPE (opens in a new window)

200g plain flour
125g unsalted butter, cold
2 tbsp cold water
450g strawberries, halved if small, quartered if large
2 tbsp cornflour
3 tbsp + sugar
Milk for glazing the pastry
Demerara sugar to scatter

Put the flour in a bowl and rub the butter in until it looks like breadcrumbs.
Stir in the water and lightly bring the dough together into a ball, adding more water if necessary. It is a firm dough, but don’t let it get sticky.

Chill the dough whilst you prep the fruit and heat the oven to GM6/200C/400F.

Halve or quarter the strawberries and combine them with the sugar and cornflour. Set aside whilst you deal with the pastry.

On a large piece of baking parchment, roll the pastry out into a large circle of around 12″.
Lift onto a rimmed baking sheet, shallow roasting tin, or large shallow pizza tin in my case, and spoon the coated strawberries in a pile in the middle. Don’t use any juices from the bottom of the bowl.
Swipe a strawberry from the pile and, ignoring the cornflour, taste to try and predict its sweetness. Scatter with more sugar if it’s too sharp.

To gather the edges up, lift a bit of the paper and encourage the pastry to nestle and flop on to the strawberries, then lift up the next bit, repeat, repeat. You’re folding the edges over the fruit as far as they will reach whilst maintaining the hole in the middle. It’ll look quirky (scruffy).

Brush the pastry with milk and scatter generously with the Demerara sugar.
Bake for 40 mins.
I checked at 35 mins and quickly spooned off some of the liquid before allowing it to cook for a further 5-10 mins.
Remove the golden brown pie from the oven, loosen from the paper with a spatula and slide on to your serving plate.
Serve in slices with custard. Or ice cream. Or cream. Or nothing at all.

The pastry is a recipe of Nigel Slater’s – he calls it Shortcake pastry and it certainly is. It’s more of a batter than a dough and is as delicious as the filling.
I didn’t want a run of the mill pastry because early peaches can be a bit tart and I don’t really care for unsweetened pastry with fruit. Equally, I didn’t want to go the whole hog and make the shortbread pastry – too much of a treat and flavoured in its own right. So this pastry is the perfect compromise. A slight crumbly quality to the edges and a melt in the mouth joy to the middle.

Peaches, well the scent of peaches is the most evocative of Summer smells. Impulse buys used to be handbag and shoe related, now they consist of punnets of peaches. My, how this woman has changed.

Cream together 150g unsalted butter and 150g caster sugar until light and fluffy *wink*

Add one beaten egg and beat that in too.

Next, add 250g plain (all purpose) flour and 1 tsp baking powder and combine that in.

Turn out on to a floured surface and very lightly knead and squish it to make it smooth

Halve the dough

and roll one half out between two pieces of baking parchment. Don’t even think about rolling it out straight on to the surface – it’s way too soft for that.

Use the rolled out piece to line your 9″ pie tin, then wrap the other half in parchment and stick both that and the lined tin into the fridge for around 30 mins.

To the peaches. They seduced me shamelessly.

I used a punnet of 12 peaches that weighed around 1kg. I also threw in a couple of wizzened ones from the fruit bowl.

Remove the skins; some pulled off easily, but the firmer peaches were resistant so I cut a cross in the stem end and blanched them in a bowl of boiling water for around 40 seconds. The skins came away easily then.

Slice them up into a bowl.

Put 50g unsalted butter into a large frying pan on a medium heat, then place the peach slices into it and add a tablespoon or two or sugar.

You don’t want to cook the life out of them, but just cook them down a little.

Remove the peaches to a sieve over a bowl and collect the juices. Return the juice to the frying pan and simmer enthusiastically until they go syrupy.

Retrieve your lined tin and reserved half of dough from the fridge and place the peach slices into it

and drizzle the reduced juice over them.

Roll the second half of the dough out between your parchment until it is large enough to cover the top of the pie.

Pinch or flute the edges together – patch any pieces where necessary, it’s an easily damaged dough, but utterly forgiving when it’s in the oven so fret not.

Brush lightly with milk (I forgot) and sprinkle with some sugar.

Bake at GM4 for around 40 mins (it might take as long as 55 mins)

Mmm, golden with that fantastic crumbly look to the edge of the pastry. Go a shade darker than mine if you dare, because the bottom was a little less cooked than I would have liked.

Now, I have zero problem with adding cream, custard or ice cream to a slice of pie, but believe me when I say you don’t need to with this pie. I’m not saying you shouldn’t, just that you don’t have to.

Quite simply, it stands very nicely on its own two feet.

As the boy in the local Co-op says, ‘Enjoy’. (Dude, I just bought toilet paper and a pack of bacon..really? Enjoy?)

————

Peach Pie Perfect

adapted from a recipe in Nigel Slater’s ‘the kitchen diaries’

PRINT THIS RECIPE (opens in a new window)

150g unsalted butter
150g caster sugar
1 egg
250g plain flour
1 tsp baking powder
milk and caster sugar to glaze the pie

1kg peaches, skins and stones removed, sliced
50g unsalted butter
1-2 tblsp sugar

9″ pie tin (that is, 24cm across the top and 18cm at the base), lightly buttered.

Cream the butter and sugar until fluffy and light.
Add the egg and beat to combine.
Add the flour and baking powder, combine.
Turn the dough out on to a floured surface and lightly knead until smooth.

Cut the pastry in half.
Roll one half out between sheets of parchment paper and use it to line the tin.
Wrap the remaining half in paper and put in the fridge along with the lined tin for around 30 mins.

Heat oven to GM4/180C/350F

Skin and stone the peaches, then slice the flesh into a bowl.
Heat the butter in a large frying pan over a medium heat. Add the peaches and 1 tblsp sugar. Taste and increase the sugar as necessary.

Cook the peaches down a little – turn them to encourage the sugar to melt – for just a few minutes.
Remove the peach slices to a sieve over a bowl, then return the juices to the frying pan.

Simmer the juices at a lively rate to reduce them down to a lovely syrup – only takes a minute or two.

Remove the lined tin and reserved pastry from the fridge.
Place the peach slices into the pastry-lined tin and drizzle the syrupy juices over them.

Roll out the remaining half of pastry between two pieces of parchment and cover the top of the pie.
Pinch, flute or crimp the two edges of pastry together – patching if you need too.
It’s not the kindest pastry to handle at this point – it’s prone to tearing – but it sorts itself out in the oven, so don’t get cross with it.

Gingerly brush it with milk (I usually do it with my fingertips) and scatter with a little sugar.
Bake for around 40 mins. If you’re happy for it to go a little darker than golden, give it some extra time – the peaches, although half cooked, are still juicy and the extra time will insure you against a soggy base. Having said that, it is a silky pastry so you don’t get that nasty uncooked dough taste anyway.

Let it sit for a few minutes to catch its breath before serving. Hot, warm or cold, it’s a winner.