Wine Country Pie (of the Concord variety)

There is a pitiful amount of grapes grown at the Farm–hardly enough to make an as-you’re-walking-along-snack, let alone this pie, so yes, it must be confessed here and now that the grapes for this pie were bought from Another Farm. I apologize, but it simply had to be done. Autumn is not Autumn without grape pie, and once you make one for yourself, I am sure you will agree and forgive the Farmer’s Wife for this heinous indiscretion.

But now, on to that Pie:

A double sided crust is made. For that recipe, refer back to the Holiday Pie that was shared some time back, only that was a single crust, meaning for this, the recipe will need to be doubled and two crusts rolled. Here’s a quick link back to that :https://thefarmerandhiswife.org/2020/10/23/great-grandma-waites-custard-pie/

For the Filling: You will need about two pounds Concord grapes–those grapey-grapes that taste and smell just as a grape should. You may substitute a different kind, and trust me, the Farmer’s Wife has, but rest assured, the very best grape for this pie is Concord. But the thing about Concord grapes is that they’re full of bitter and rather crunchy seeds–not a very pleasant thing to bite into when taking your pie, let me tell you. So, the seeds will have to be removed and how you do it is this: Have a saucepan and a bowl next to each other on your counter and pop the insides of the grape out into the pan, and place what’s left in the bowl. This is great fun, and more than likely a task you can share with any kids in the house. Keep it up until all is done, and when it is done, you should have a pan of greenish innards and a bowl of purplish skins.

Set the pan on the stove over low heat and stir until the seeds are given up and settle to the bottom of the pan. Strain them out over the bowl, so all that grapey-flavor is put back in with the skins. To this add one cup of that fine white sugar, one quarter cup flour, the juice of a lemon with it’s zest, and a good pinch of salt. Set all this back into the pan and cook until it’s thick and rich and gloriously purple. Set it aside to cool. When it is, pour it into a waiting pie shell, and cover with the second. Hannah made the pie you see here, and she’s a bit fancy, so she decided to add a lattice top. You can do that, too. Whatever you decide, just make sure to make a slit or five in the top crust, or you might have an explosion on your hands. And yes, the Farmer’s Wife has learned this from experience. That may be why Hannah went with the lattice top–no slits are needed for that.

Bake the pie in a four-hundred degree oven anywhere from forty-five minutes to an hour. You’ll know it’s done when your house is filled with the best grape smell you can imagine and when you check the oven, you see thick drippings of purple bubbling up between those slits you’ve made.

The Farmer’s Wife recommends letting it cool a bit before slicing, and serving it with a nice thick slice of brie cheese.