Professor Butter Beard and his Artisan Rolling Pins
“Ladies and gentlemen,
May I have your attention, perlease?
Are your nostrils aquiver and tingling as well at that delicate, luscious ambrosial smell?
Yes they are, I can tell.
Well, ladies and gentlemen, that aroma enriching the breeze is like nothing compared to its succulent source,
As the gourmets among you will tell you, of course.
Ladies and gentlemen, you can't imagine the rapture in store
Just inside of this door!
There you'll sample Mrs. Lovett's meat pies, savoury and sweet pies, as you'll see.
You who eat pies, Mrs. Lovett's meat pies conjure up the treat pies used to be!”
- Stephen Sondheim, “Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street”
I met Mrs. Lovett almost forty years ago on the ride home from Provincetown. John and I had escaped from Northampton for a three-day getaway to the off-season gay playground to celebrate my “official” coming out. In order to stay awake on the long ride home, John recounted the story of “Sweeney Todd” scene by scene, song by song, and I began my love affair with Mrs. Lovett and pie.
In truth, I grew up on pie and watching my Gramma Mac in her kitchen, wielding her well-worn rolling pin like a third arm, creating delicious pastry treats out of whatever berries I had picked on my walk towards the “big house.” But Mrs. Lovett took that third arm into a whole new realm. I became obsessed with learning all types of pastry doughs, experimenting with savory and sweet fillings, and began collecting artisan rolling pins that now fill the antique crockery throughout my home.
According to food historians, the 9th century BCE Etruscans were the first to create images of themselves and their simple wooden cylinders used to flatten quick breads and shape doughs. That basic design and function has not altered much in over thirty centuries – as witnessed in my favorite drawing of a 17th century chef lovingly waxing his prize pin carved from a branch of pine.
The earliest “modern” rolling pins were simply made of turned found wood. Sometimes the ends were tapered like a sailor’s “belaying pins” (used to secure rigging on ships), while others had one or both ends turned to form handles. It is said that sailors bored at sea would carve unique rolling pins out of lignum vitae (the Caribbean “wood of life”) and attach whale bone handles to make a gift for their waiting lovers back home. ‘Cause, nothing says lovin’…….
The Shakers were particularly known for their elegant, and extremely practical, wooden rolling pins with handles turned to perfectly fit within the baker’s hands. In France, wooden pins were developed without handles for their pastry chefs who say the simple taper gives them a better touch and connection with the dough.
Over time, rolling pins have been made from nearly every kind of wood possible, including sycamore, walnut, pine, cherry, mahogany, boxwood, beech, fruitwood, and ash. Starting in the 18th century, glassworks in English port towns like Bristol, London, Sunderland, and Newcastle began producing hollow glass rolling pins filled with goods like bath salts, vinegar, cocoa, or baking powder. In theory, once emptied, these glass rolling pins could be filled with water or crushed ice to keep the dough cool and prevent it from sticking to the pin – perfect when taking on the challenge of creating the hundreds of buttery layers within puff pastry.
I recently have become smitten with the artisan pins created by the Vermont Rolling Pins company in South Burlington. When I choose to use one of their cherry or walnut pins from my collection, I feel the solid heft and perfectly smooth wood in my hands and experience a connection with their wood turner, knowing that his heart-filled art is with me as I create my own. Yes, this is both in appreciation and an obvious recommendation to all of you, but trust me when I say – these pins are true works of inspiring art.
The pins inspired me today to create a “Sunday pie” filled with fresh raspberries, a bit of surprising spice, all bound together within a latticed shortbread pastry crust. It lovingly smells of my Gramma Mac’s kitchen and reminds me that the farmer’s market is only a few weeks away. And just like Mrs. Lovett’s wickedly baked pastries, it “conjures up the treat pies used to be!”
Professor Butter Beard’s Raspberry Pie
One two-crust pie
Crust:
2 ½ cups all-purpose flour
4 Tbsp confectionary sugar
½ tsp fine sea salt
12 Tbsp very cold unsalted butter, cut into ½” cubes
3-4 Tbsp very cold water
Filling:
5 cups fresh raspberries
Juice of 1 lime
1 cup granulated sugar
5 Tbsp cornstarch
1 tsp cinnamon
½ tsp fine sea salt
2 Tbsp unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
(Milk and granulated sugar to finish the pie before baking)
1) In a food processor, pulse together the flour, confectionary sugar and salt. Add the cubed butter and pulse until the mixture resembles very coarse cornmeal. Add 3 Tbsp cold water and pulse until the mixture comes together into a dough. Divide the dough in half. Wrap each half in plastic wrap and chill for one hour.
2) Preheat your oven to 400 degrees and place a cookie sheet on the middle rack to heat.
3) Roll the first half of the dough into a large thin circle (enough to fill your pie pan with a 1” hangover of dough). Roll the second half out to the same size circle.
4) In a small bowl, whisk together the sugar, cornstarch, cinnamon and salt. In a large bowl, gently toss the raspberries and the lime juice. Add the dry mix and gently fold to combine. Spoon the filling into the bottom crust and dot with the small pieces of butter.
5) Cut the second round of dough into large strips and lattice over the pie filling (see picture). Brush the top of the crust with whole milk and sprinkle with granulated sugar. Reduce the heat to 375 degrees and bake the pie (on the preheated cookie sheet) for 60-65 minutes until the crust is browned and the filling is bubbly.
