I’m almost embarrassed to admit that I make pretty decent pie dough; not because it impugns my manhood but because from-scratch pie crusts, especially flaky pie crusts, are supposed to be difficult. You’ve probably heard about tricks like using vodka or other such sorcery but I’ve always had luck with just the basics. I really wish I had a trick of my own to impart.

Before we get started, let’s consider briefly just what pie dough is. Like its cousin the biscuit, pie dough is a means to suspend fat in flour, the primary difference being that a pie dough uses much less liquid. The type of fat can vary depending on the type of pie. I prefer crusts made with just butter, not lard or shortening ¹. Also like the biscuit, the fat is cut into the flour, usually using a pastry cutter (I prefer blades to wires on my pastry cutters as they are sturdy enough to stand up to well-chilled butter) so that larger pieces of butter will help ensure a flaky crust. A little salt and some cold water are all you need to round out the recipe.

One word about butter — get the good stuff. I like a full fat, European-style butter like Plugra for my pie dough. As with all baking, use unsalted butter and add the right amount of salt on your own.

Most pies call for two crusts and it’s easy enough to make two at once. I use Michael Ruhlman’s 3-2-1 ratio of three parts flour, two parts fat (butter) and one part liquid (ice water) for it’s simplicity. This works out to 12 ounces of all purpose flour weighed out (about 2 1/2 cups if you don’t have a scale), 8 ounces of butter (two sticks or one bullion of Plugra exactly, as luck would have it) and 4 ounces (a few tablespoons) of ice water.

My one piece of advice when you are ready to prepare: stay cool, and I mean this literally and figuratively. Butter has a pretty low melt point; it will start to pool on a warm enough day, not to mention in a hot kitchen. You want the butter to remain solid until bake time, otherwise the melted butter will mix with the flour and your pie crust will be more mealy than flaky ². It’s important to work quickly but not frantically.

Cut the butter into about half inch cubes then chill it in the freezer for 15 minutes or so. Measure out the flour, add half a teaspoon of salt, stir twice, then chill in the fridge along with your pastry cutter. This sounds obsessive, I realize, but it really does help.

When everything is chilled, work the butter into the flour with a pastry cutter until the pieces are roughly pea-sized. You’ll probably need to use a knife to scrape the butter from between the blades of the pastry cutter.

Add ice water by the tablespoon until the dough just comes together. Water in this recipe really is the biggest unknown because the amount of water you need will vary depending on the flour you’re using and, yes, even how humid it is on any particular day. Err on the side of less water, just make sure it’s ice cold.

Dump the dough, likely still crumbs, on a floured surface and quickly knead by hand for 30 seconds or less to bring it all together. At this point, the dough should be cool to the touch and you want to work quickly to keep the heat of your hands from melting the butter. Three or four good kneads should be sufficient. If it won’t stay together, dump the crumbs back in the bowl, add a little more water then try again.

Divide the dough in half and shape into discs that are about half an inch thick. Wrap each disc in plastic and refrigerate for at least half an hour or up to a day. The refrigeration gives the butter a chance to cool and solidify, and the time allows the water to evenly distribute in the dough.

When it comes time to make a pie, remember to keep temperature in mind. Were your dough discs in the fridge overnight? They may need to sit on the counter for a few minutes before rolling them out so that they’re not too hard. Is it a hot day in a hot kitchen? Roll each disc quickly and then wrap in plastic and store in the fridge while assembling the rest of the pie.

Now that you’ve made your own pie crust, making the pie should be, well, easy.

1. If I’m making a savory pie, like one filled with meat, I’ll sub about 1/3 of the butter with lard or, best yet, duck fat. ↩

2. Unlike, say, mealy apples, mealy crust isn’t necessarily a bad thing and is delicious in its own right. The difference is really one of texture. ↩

Biscuits are one of those foods that we’ve somehow convinced ourselves we can’t make from scratch, that we need either an insta-pop tin full of doughy chemicals or a southern grandmother at the ready. The very idea of “made from scratch biscuits” conjures thoughts of kneading and a kitchen dusted in flour, something we’re all far too busy to attempt on our own, here’s a dough boy to the rescue. Nonsense - they are made from a few simple ingredients, very little actual work, and you don’t even really need any special equipment.

The recipe I use isn’t really a recipe at all but a ratio that comes from Michael Ruhlman’s truly excellent and transformative book called, appropriately, Ratio. I’ll have plenty more to say about Ratio in a later post but if you’re looking to know more about the craft of cooking and aren’t just content to follow instructions, buy this book. Ruhlman’s ratio couldn’t be simpler — 3 parts flour, 1 part fat, 2 parts liquid, with a little salt and baking powder to add flavor and leavening, respectively. The only tricky bit when using ratios is that you really do need to measure your ingredients by weight, which requires a scale, not volume, which you’re likely more used to. Here are the ingredients for enough biscuits for four people with some approximate volumes:

• 9 ounces of flour (about 2 cups)
• 3 ounces of butter, chilled (about 6 tablespoons)
• 6 ounces of milk or buttermilk (about ¾ cup)
• 1 teaspoon of salt
• 2 teaspoons of baking powder

Chances are you’ve got all of that in your pantry already. The key to good biscuits, with lots of flaky layers, is to keep the butter cold and not over work it. I usually measure mine, slice it into ½” cubes then put it in the freezer for ten minutes or so.

Mix the flour, salt and baking powder together in a bowl. Add the cubed butter and stir to coat with flour. Now, you need to combine the butter with flour so that it’s, essentially, suspended in the flour. You can use two knives scissoring across one another, a dough blender (make sure to get any butter left between the blades) or, most conveniently, by quickly rubbing the butter with your fingers. Combine until the largest bits of butter are about pea-sized. Add the milk and stir until just combined — don’t overwork the dough and don’t overheat it. Form the dough into a rectangle about a half inch thick, then wrap in plastic and store in the refrigerator for an hour.

On a floured surface, roll out the dough until it’s about three times the size -maintaining the basic rectangle shape - and then fold the dough on itself in thirds and roll it out again. This is where the magic happens — the layering will create lots of layers of butter solids that will release their water during baking, helping to create a flaky biscuit. Fold the dough into thirds one more time and refrigerate again until chilled (if you’ve got time) or roll it out to about ½” thick and cut your biscuits. Squares are easy at this point; rounds using an inverted glass are nice and let you combine the scraps into one of my personal favorite pastries, the ugly biscuit.

I like to scramble a single egg and lightly brush the top of the biscuits to help create a sheen, but this isn’t necessary. Bake on a cookie sheet at 400 for 20-25 minutes. Leftovers, if you have any, are fantastic the next day for breakfast, toasted quickly under the broiler and spread thick with jam or marmalade.

For savory biscuits, I like to add a little cheese or some fresh herbs. Fold grated cheddar with diced jalapeño peppers or parmesan with sage or parsley into the layering stage.