I went to pie heaven and it was in a timber cabin in upstate New York. A friend’s magical mother whipped up these two beauties in a matter of minutes this weekend, the recipes all tucked away in her head, tried and tested over countless years. We were in the house by a lake where she’d been coming since she was a little girl, and which her family had owned since the 1920s. Nothing much had changed since her grandparents first landed there - the china was the same her grandmother used all those years ago, the bread tin was spotted with age and the work benches were worn from decades of use.
Betsy made two pies - strawberry and rhubarb and a Kentucky derby pie “because you can bet it’s a winner”. For the strawberry and rhubarb, she mixed through two eggs and a couple of tablespoons of flour with the fruit, lemon zest and sugar to help it bind and reduce the liquid-y filling a bit. The Kentucky derby pie was basically a brownie in a pie crust. Surely the chewy champion of pies. I can also vouch for their overnight staying power - they tasted even better this morning.