Ode to Pastry Crust
Baking is a science I am the chemist,
Would Mr. Brown be shocked to see this.
A tart crust’s flakiness is essential.
Like buttery lines of thin vellum,
Slowly dissolves in your mouth.
Mixing flour, salt, and sugar
Produces a mixture like soft Hawaiian sand.
I chop cold butter into tiny blocks,
They fall into the soft flour concoction.
The pastry blender is moved in and out.
Turning it a yellow hue,
Like coarse Arizona sands,
With a lite sprinkling of dew.
Icy cold water, slowly poured onto yellow mixture,
My hands immerse themselves into the bowl,
The soft powder gradually morphs into a ball of playdoh.
It smells fresh and pure,
The ball is rolled out with a dusting of flour.
Placing the fragile dough onto the wavy rimmed pan,
My hands push the dough into tiny crevices.
Pies and tarts vary in flavor,
Rhubarb-strawberry, peach or pumpkin,
Fillings create sweetness, a court jester,
Crust is royalty—essential for everything.