Technically, I have not yet read this book - at least not the narrative part. But after Book Cupidity wrote about her fabulous experience with one of the pie recipes (complete with amazing drool-worthy pictures of her pie), and Whiskey in the Jar followed up with a Tasty Tuesday challenge and her favourite Pop Tart recipe, reading the narrative was not my primary concern.

I bought this book on Thursday last week with the intent of making the dough and using it for the pop tart recipe on Sunday. Now, you have to understand that I am not a cook - I lack any instinct for food beyond the basic need to not starve - so when I am forced to cook, I need exact details; don't give me that 'use your instincts' crap - I need exact measurements, preferably out to at least 2 decimal places.

Needless to say, I didn't go into this with the zen attitude that the author insists is necessary for successful pie, but I did go into it thinking 'screw it - if I screw up, I'll still eat it'. And then I made two batches of the basic all-butter dough, questioning myself all the way through. The first batch grew up to be brown sugar cinnamon pop tarts, without frosting because I don't like frosting and I used the scraps to make the pinwheels that McDermott includes in this book. Those may or may not have been my dinner on Sunday night.

They were good - so much flakier than I expected them to be. I took one to work yesterday and made a right proper mess of my desk; like eating a croissant, there were flakes everywhere. My only complaint about the pop tart recipe was that there was a ton of the filling left over, but I stuck it in a jar and figured I'd have it ready made for future pop tarts.

Today (totally a coincidence, btw, that it is Tuesday) I came home from work and took one of the extra discs of dough out to make McDermott's Rustic Tart for dessert tonight. I had intended to make an apple pie until I saw this recipe, which looked easier and made two smaller tarts, which meant I could halve the recipe; a perfect size for just MT and myself. Because while I know from experience that MT and I can polish off a whole pie by ourselves, it always ends in guilt and recriminations.

I was also making a cottage pie for dinner, so I didn't have a lot of time. This is another reason I was drawn to the Rustic Tart recipe - McDermott included an option to use fresh fruit instead of a more complicated fruit pie filling. I cut up a Granny Smith, a Golden Delicious, and a Royal Gala, rolled out one disc of dough and piled all the fruit in the middle. McDermott calls for a 1/4 cup of sugar sprinkled over the top with a small dusting of nutmeg, but I had a brain storm: left over pop tart filling!! It's brown sugar and it's cinnamon (a bit of flour too but I figured that would keep everything from bubbling out of control) and why the hell not? So, see, I was meant to have extra pop tart filling left over. I added a small sprinkling of nutmeg, as suggested, and then folded the dough over. I knew if I failed at everything else, I totally nailed rustic.

After refrigerating it for a couple of hours, I did the egg wash and sprinkled it with a last dusting of sugar, but I felt fancy and dug out my sparkly sugar I use for Christmas cookies. A small drizzle of cream and... pretty good if I do say so myself. The crust could probably have been a bit more tender, and I could have used more fruit, given the amount of shrinkage, but look at those flakes - I've never baked anything that's flaked like that before!! MT said he was too stuffed to have any, while almost simultaneously cutting himself first one, then a second, slice. He's a hard one to impress, so I'm pretty happy all around with this first effort, and the pop tart filling with the apples worked - for no muss, no fuss, I'd say you can't go wrong with it.

So the TL;DR version is this: if you like pie, go buy the book. It's worth every penny (and I bought this in Australia, so believe you me, I paid through the nose for this book and it's still worth every penny). Then, go check out the pop tart recipe that Whiskey In the Jar links to and have fun! ( )

In this interesting cookbook-sprinkled-with-memoir, Kate McDermott intersperses brief anecdotes from her life among the typical cookbook contents. She lays down three simple rules. Keep everything chilled, including yourself, keep your boundaries, and vent. These apply both to pie-making and to your life. In Art of the Pie, you get a little homespun self-help psychotherapy along with the recipes.

McDermott provides the usual introduction and a list of essential tools. It turns out there are 12 everyday items that most likely you have already and 11 "nice to have" extras. I have all 12 of the essential items, and, at first reading, six of the extras, plus a usable substitute for another. I gave myself credit for 7. McDermott’s extras include one for whimsey, but I’m not big on whimsey, so I took credit for another. Okay, so I’m stodgy. (Well, actually, I didn’t have an apron either, so I guess I’m a stodgy slob.) I thought I was missing a pastry wheel, a pastry cloth, and a bench scraper, but not so quick. I have a lot of cloths, a pizza cutter (wheel), and—in the garage—scrapers galore. As I read further, I realized those would work for the uses she describes. That makes me 22 for 23. I haven’t even gotten to the recipes yet, and already I feel like an expert pie-maker.

There are plenty of recipes, but the features that set this book apart from other cookbooks are the personal anecdotes, photography, and tip on how to test for hot spots in your oven. The photographs are outstanding. Andrew Scrivani is a commercial and editorial photographer. His work regularly appears in the New York Times, but I wasn’t aware of him until reading this book. The book is printed on fine paper perfectly well-suited for color photographs. I recommend Art of the Pie to readers interested in studio photography.

I have several quibbles with Art of the Pie. In some instances, McDermott leaves the reader hanging. For example, she begins with a poignant reminiscence of her grandmother, Geeg, who suffered a stroke. Before the stroke was formally diagnosed, a symbolic passing of the torch (a literal passing of the rolling pin) occurred from grandmother Geeg to Kate. Unfortunately, the story ends there. I wanted to hear more about the relation between Kate and her grandmother after this rite of passage.

The same occurred when McDermott described a procedure for testing to see if your oven heats evenly. She describes the test and how to interpret the result but then stops. Come on, if you’re going to give self-help advice, throw in a little oven therapy advice also. I doubt few readers will be like me—tempted to conduct this test out of simple curiosity—but … Help! How much unevenness is required before it becomes a problem? If it is a problem, what should I do? Buy a new oven? Call an oven technician? Cook only in certain spots and avoid the others? Don’t leave me hanging.

The organization of Art of the Pie is a little idiosyncratic but manageable. McDermott covers making pie dough in great detail and a wealth of recipes. Pie-makers may want this book as a reference solely for this section. Next follows a segment on fruit pies. Alas, my favorite, blueberry, is missing. After that is apple pie. Apples are fruit, aren't they? Okay, so I’m a stodgy, picky slob. Then comes berries—aren’t berries … oh forget it—and blueberries show up. Whew! She had me worried for a while.
I can’t go on without mentioning the flawed approach to recipes. For example, many of the fruit pies call for similar ingredients and follow the same essential process. A more sensible approach would be to list the common ingredients and standard steps in the process. Then for each type of fruit pie indicate any necessary variations in ingredients and directions. This approach, used effectively in other cookbooks I own, permits the grouping of 4-8 recipes on a single page.

I did appreciate McDermott’s artistic flair. Her writing is lively and entertaining. For example, “pie-worthy” fruit is “fruit with flavor that dances on your tongue and sends little currents and shivers of sweet and tart right through you.” I vacillate between wanting to try some pie-worthy fruit and objecting to the idea of little currents and shivers coursing through my body. On the other hand, balloon bread (white bread that is super squishy and full of unpronounceable additives) is my all-time favorite. I just never knew what to call it before now.

Art of the Pie is a quick, easy, enjoyable book to read. Or, I should say, it's quick, easy, and enjoyable to read the parts that are appealing to you. I regard Art of the Pie, like all the cookbooks I own, as a reference book to keep on my shelf. I imagine I will purchase a copy in time for blueberry and rhubarb season. ( )

Too much sugar. The metric values are ridiculous. A cup of water should be 1/4 liter, not 120 grams (which is not quite 1/8 liter). One inch is not 4-5 cm. And please, if you call for one pound of an ingredient, don't say 454 g.

There really isn't anything in here you can't find in a good general (American) cookbook. ( )