I Was Told There Would Be Pie

This past weekend, Jess and I walked down to the 79th St farmer’s market, to stock up on summer fruits and vegetables. Apparently, strawberry season is upon us, as there were tables and tables of strawberries of all sizes. And, at one stand, there were some truly gigantic rhubarb stalks. So, I bought a bunch of strawberries, and a couple rhubarbs, with the intention of making a strawberry rhubarb pie.

Previously, I’d never made a strawberry rhubarb pie. Or, so far as I can recall, any kind of pie at all. (Except for chicken pot pie, which I don’t think quite counts.) A bit of Googling yielded this recipe for “Grandma’s strawberry rhubarb pie,” which had a slew of positive reviews. So I stocked up on the few ingredients not in my kitchen already, and went to work.

While I love to cook, I’ve never been a fan of baking, the precise measuring and hands-off watching through the oven door far less suited to my personality than savory cooking’s improvisations and fixes on the fly.

Still, you can’t argue the results:

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The pie was delicious. Look out Martha Stewart, as I’ll definitely be trying my hand at pie-making again soon.