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.