Classic Rhubarb Pie — The Pie That Says Summer Has Finally Started

Paul finished the school year on Friday. Thirty-two years of teaching. He came home with the box of papers and the gift card (Caribou Coffee again — his students are consistent) and the look of liberation, and he said, "Summer, Linda," and I said, "Summer, Paul," and we stood in the kitchen and smiled at each other like two people who still, after thirty years, are glad to see each other. He started his summer routine immediately: five-mile walks instead of three, shipwreck books on the porch, Lake Superior gazing from Brighton Beach. He'll do this for ten weeks, with minor variations, and it will sustain him for the nine months of teaching that follow. Paul needs summer the way the garden needs rain — not as a luxury but as a necessity for survival. I'm still working, of course. The hospital doesn't close for summer. But I shifted my schedule — two twelve-hour shifts per week instead of three, because I have seniority and because the charge nurse likes me and because I told her I needed more time in the garden and she said, "Linda, you've earned every hour." Thirty-two years earns you something. It should. The garden is planted. Tomatoes went in this week — finally, past the last frost date, though I still watch the forecast like a hawk because Duluth has been known to frost in June, which is an insult to gardeners and to June itself. Peppers, cucumbers, lettuce, dill, basil, and the rhubarb is going strong — thick stalks, deep red, ready for pie. I made the first rhubarb pie of the season. Mamma's crust — flour, butter, salt, ice water, handled as little as possible because Mamma says overworked pastry is "punished pastry" and punished pastry is tough and that is unforgivable. The filling: rhubarb from the garden, sugar, a squeeze of orange juice, a tablespoon of cornstarch. You bake it until the crust is golden and the filling bubbles through the vents and the kitchen smells like June even though it's May. Paul ate a quarter of the pie and said, "First rhubarb pie is better than Christmas." He says this every year. He means it every year. I believe him every year. The pie is the marker. The pie says: we survived another winter. We're here. The garden is growing. Summer is starting. Elsa called from Voyageurs. She's back for her second summer season. She sounds happy — genuinely, deeply happy, the kind of happy that comes from doing the work you were made to do in the place you were made to do it. I don't worry about Elsa the way I worry about Peter. Elsa is sky. Sky takes care of itself.

This is Mamma’s recipe — or as close as I’ve kept it over the years. I make it the same way every June, with the first stalks I pull from the garden, and the rule is always the same: handle the dough as little as possible, because overworked pastry is punished pastry, and punished pastry is tough, and that is unforgivable. Paul ate a quarter of it before it had fully cooled, which is exactly what he does every year, and every year I let him, because some traditions are worth protecting. If you have rhubarb growing and a little time on a Saturday morning, this is the pie you should be making.

Classic Rhubarb Pie

Prep Time: 30 min | Cook Time: 55 min | Total Time: 1 hr 25 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

• For the crust:
• 2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 tsp salt
• 1 cup (2 sticks) cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
• 6–8 tbsp ice water
• For the filling:
• 5 cups fresh rhubarb, trimmed and cut into 3/4-inch pieces (about 1 1/2 lbs)
• 1 cup granulated sugar
• 1 tbsp cornstarch
• 1 tbsp fresh orange juice
• 1/4 tsp salt
• 1 tbsp unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
• 1 egg, beaten (for egg wash)
• 1 tsp coarse sugar (for topping, optional)

Instructions

1. Make the crust. Combine flour and salt in a large bowl. Add the cold butter cubes and work them in quickly with your fingertips or a pastry cutter until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs with some pea-sized pieces remaining. Add ice water one tablespoon at a time, stirring gently with a fork, just until the dough holds together when pressed. Do not overwork it. Divide in half, shape each half into a flat disk, wrap, and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes.
2. Preheat the oven. Heat oven to 425°F with a rack in the lower third.
3. Make the filling. Toss the rhubarb pieces with sugar, cornstarch, orange juice, and salt in a large bowl. Let sit for 10 minutes while you roll the dough.
4. Roll the bottom crust. On a lightly floured surface, roll one dough disk into a 12-inch circle. Transfer to a 9-inch pie plate, letting the excess hang over the edges. Do not stretch it.
5. Fill the pie. Pour the rhubarb filling into the crust, spreading evenly. Dot the top of the filling with the small pieces of butter.
6. Roll and add the top crust. Roll the second disk into a 12-inch circle. Lay it over the filling. Trim both crusts to a 1-inch overhang, then fold the edges under and crimp to seal. Cut 4–5 vents in the top crust with a sharp knife. Brush with beaten egg and sprinkle with coarse sugar if using.
7. Bake. Bake at 425°F for 20 minutes, then reduce heat to 375°F and bake for another 30–35 minutes, until the crust is deep golden brown and the filling is bubbling visibly through the vents. If the crust edges brown too quickly, tent loosely with foil.
8. Cool. Transfer to a wire rack and cool for at least 2 hours before slicing. The filling will set as it cools.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 410 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 22g | Carbs: 51g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 310mg