This one stretches the definition of "pie" considerably. But, it is made from a pizza crust, it doesn't fit other categories well, and I, the pie maker, made it. More importantly, it's extremely tasty.
It started when I had one more pizza crust than toppings while making grilled pizzas last night (incidentally, if you have vegetarians at a BBQ, this is the way to go. Also, great way to make pizza during the summer without heating up the house). I also happened to have more wild black raspberries than I know what to do with, and a bit of brown sugar.
Ingredients:
on the grill:
1 roughly fist sized ball of pizza dough
1 cup wild black raspberries (other berries should work)
2-3T brown sugar
after grilling:
1T butter, melted
~1T powdered sugar for sprinkling
2 scoops ice cream
Procedure:
Let the grill cool a bit after grilling the pizza, so that you can hold a hand over the coals for about 7s. A good way to do this is enjoy the grilled pizzas and a tall beverage while the grill is covered.
Carefully mix the berries and sugar in a bowl.
Stretch the dough ball into a rough circle 12" across (probably best to use a rolling pin)
Place the berry mix in the middle, fold up the crust around it, and place on the grill. Cover, let sit about 5min, and roll onto the opposite side, wait 5min or so, and then cook the remaining two sides.
Place the baked pie-tube on a plate, pour and smear the melted butter over the top. Sprinkle with powered sugar. Serve immediately with two scoops of ice cream and two spoons or forks.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Someone pointed out to me recently that I must have been busy, since nothing happened here for a couple months. Well, I don't know if I'm less busy, but there's some things going on in the world that I'm having trouble sorting out. Read on, if you wish, and swing by for a slice if you care to discuss.
Harry Shearer had perhaps the best insight into the recent Palin resignation on last week's "Le Show": "The crucial difference between . . . politics and showbusiness is that in politics you have to read your negative reviews and answer your critics." This, I think, is the real difference between those politicians who we say get bad press, and those who we think are media darlings. There's plenty of articles and opinion pieces critical of the current US president, but he's very good at elegantly ducking tough questions. Watch a White House press conference some time, this guy is good. Also, his team is good, and by spreading ownership of major initiatives around, it seems like half of the Hill is figuring out responses to criticisms as fast as they come out.
Consider, as an alternative to this rather elegant criticism anechoic chamber, the family-friendly sitcom. In these series, when offense is given, it is typically the responsibility of the offender to deal with the hurt feelings. If there is mutual offense, then per our Western Humanist value set, all parties are responsible restoring harmony. Occasionally, there are characters who come along to show that there are people who don't share these values, and they are roundly condemned and held as an example of what not to do. If you feel like I'm describing a Fox News or MSNBC broadcast, you may be on to something.
Is it terribly surprising, then, that a generation of people used to watching conflicts resolve themselves in favor of the character with whom they identify have problems with civil discourse? That they would have trouble believing that it's important for people with whom they identify (say, likable politicians who come on TV after the sitcoms) to engage with people who don't share those common values? These canned conflicts remind me of canned pie filling, overly sweet with all of the flavor beaten out of them. Other periods in history have had their problems, and you will never hear me say that any particular technology "ruined" humanity (although coal-fired power plants are doing their darnest right now). This, however, is the problem of our age in the United States today.
I could be completely wrong. Certainly, despite having an uncomfortably close view of the transition of the GOP from the "elites" to the "Right," I don't have all the answers. Ted Koppel put it well in a Talk of the Nation appearance when he described an "Age of Entitlement", all people have the ability to choose a news outlet that presents everything from their point of view. As a frequent reader of the BBC, Economist, and Reuters news services and NPR station member, I want my information presented with a Western Humanist slant that is extremely cautious about saying which side it "right" (with the exception of the self-professed "mouthpiece of global capitalism" that ironically argues very well for certain social programs). I will not get into the post-modern nihilistic navel-gazing and question if my view is necessarily better because, frankly, wisdom comes not from reinforcement of beliefs but questioning and learning the limits of them.
This is a painful process. Human history, and the fall of representative governments especially, is full of people turning away from the pain in favor comfortable mediocrity (read The Challenge and Promise of a Catholic University for a lot good essays on the subject). It can't be made less painful, but a good pie makes it easier to sit down to deal with difficult issues, just promise to be civil about disagreements at my table.
Harry Shearer had perhaps the best insight into the recent Palin resignation on last week's "Le Show": "The crucial difference between . . . politics and showbusiness is that in politics you have to read your negative reviews and answer your critics." This, I think, is the real difference between those politicians who we say get bad press, and those who we think are media darlings. There's plenty of articles and opinion pieces critical of the current US president, but he's very good at elegantly ducking tough questions. Watch a White House press conference some time, this guy is good. Also, his team is good, and by spreading ownership of major initiatives around, it seems like half of the Hill is figuring out responses to criticisms as fast as they come out.
Consider, as an alternative to this rather elegant criticism anechoic chamber, the family-friendly sitcom. In these series, when offense is given, it is typically the responsibility of the offender to deal with the hurt feelings. If there is mutual offense, then per our Western Humanist value set, all parties are responsible restoring harmony. Occasionally, there are characters who come along to show that there are people who don't share these values, and they are roundly condemned and held as an example of what not to do. If you feel like I'm describing a Fox News or MSNBC broadcast, you may be on to something.
Is it terribly surprising, then, that a generation of people used to watching conflicts resolve themselves in favor of the character with whom they identify have problems with civil discourse? That they would have trouble believing that it's important for people with whom they identify (say, likable politicians who come on TV after the sitcoms) to engage with people who don't share those common values? These canned conflicts remind me of canned pie filling, overly sweet with all of the flavor beaten out of them. Other periods in history have had their problems, and you will never hear me say that any particular technology "ruined" humanity (although coal-fired power plants are doing their darnest right now). This, however, is the problem of our age in the United States today.
I could be completely wrong. Certainly, despite having an uncomfortably close view of the transition of the GOP from the "elites" to the "Right," I don't have all the answers. Ted Koppel put it well in a Talk of the Nation appearance when he described an "Age of Entitlement", all people have the ability to choose a news outlet that presents everything from their point of view. As a frequent reader of the BBC, Economist, and Reuters news services and NPR station member, I want my information presented with a Western Humanist slant that is extremely cautious about saying which side it "right" (with the exception of the self-professed "mouthpiece of global capitalism" that ironically argues very well for certain social programs). I will not get into the post-modern nihilistic navel-gazing and question if my view is necessarily better because, frankly, wisdom comes not from reinforcement of beliefs but questioning and learning the limits of them.
This is a painful process. Human history, and the fall of representative governments especially, is full of people turning away from the pain in favor comfortable mediocrity (read The Challenge and Promise of a Catholic University for a lot good essays on the subject). It can't be made less painful, but a good pie makes it easier to sit down to deal with difficult issues, just promise to be civil about disagreements at my table.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Mulberry-Rhubarb Pie
Mulberry trees are common throughout the temperate zones of the world, having spread from south and southeast Asia on the decks of British ships to many places around the world. Their fruit is very delicate, a bucket of mulberries will quickly crush the bottom layer into juice, which has severely limited their commercialization. They do show up in processed form as juice, wine or coloring extracts. However, if you are lucky enough to live near a stand of them, they are effectively free for the taking as long as they are bearing fruit, generally throughout the early summer.
Being very sweet on their own, it's helpful to add something tart to give a pie a more full-bodied flavor. Citrus might work, but that's a winter fruit, and we're all about being seasonally appropriate here. The obvious choice is rhubarb. The combination works remarkably well with the whole wheat crust.
Ingredients:
1 double-crust worth of whole wheat crust
4 cups mulberries
3 cups rhubarb
3/4 cup + 2T sugar
2T cornstarch
Procedure:
Roll out the bottom crust into a 13" circle and place into a 9.5" deep dish pie pan. Preheat the oven to 400F.
Combine the fruit and .75C sugar in a bowl, carefully stir to mix (the mulberries are delicate, so don't push them too hard). Combine the remaining sugar and cornstarch in a small bowl, then mix carefully into the fruit mixture.
Pour carefully into the pie pan, add a lattice top, and bake for about 40min. The pie is done when the juices bubble thickly, I've had to add an aluminium heat shield to the rim at about 30min.
Let cool thoroughly.
Being very sweet on their own, it's helpful to add something tart to give a pie a more full-bodied flavor. Citrus might work, but that's a winter fruit, and we're all about being seasonally appropriate here. The obvious choice is rhubarb. The combination works remarkably well with the whole wheat crust.
Ingredients:
1 double-crust worth of whole wheat crust
4 cups mulberries
3 cups rhubarb
3/4 cup + 2T sugar
2T cornstarch
Procedure:
Roll out the bottom crust into a 13" circle and place into a 9.5" deep dish pie pan. Preheat the oven to 400F.
Combine the fruit and .75C sugar in a bowl, carefully stir to mix (the mulberries are delicate, so don't push them too hard). Combine the remaining sugar and cornstarch in a small bowl, then mix carefully into the fruit mixture.
Pour carefully into the pie pan, add a lattice top, and bake for about 40min. The pie is done when the juices bubble thickly, I've had to add an aluminium heat shield to the rim at about 30min.
Let cool thoroughly.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Value vs. Utility
Money, according to the experts, is a "means of exchange and a store of value." Less obvious, however, is the relationship between "value" and "utility". Around the time Lehman collapsed, a friend of mine asked "What is capital?", because it seemed to be something the banks needed badly, but we were having a heck of a time defining (yes, we know that in that context it consists of money that can be used to pay for losses). Pie making gives one quite a bit of time to let the fore-brain wander, and it finally came to me that the problem we face today is reconciling the difference between "value" and "utility."
Someone on a radio program, I think it was Talk of the Nation, a while back described the difference between the macro economist's view of capital and the business community's (and most of the country's) view by comparing a clay and Lego dinosaur. In both cases, the "value" of the parts is one dinosaur's worth of stuff, providing the "utility" of play to a dinosaur-loving child. The modeling clay dinosaur is easily reconfigured, providing utility in the event of the loss of small amounts of clay, but it has a nasty habit of staining carpets and you can't make good horns with it because they droop. Thus, the Lego dinosaur is probably more popular with parents who have carpet, and kids who want more realism. However, while the "value" of both is the same (1 dino), the "utility" of the Lego dino is more fragile and more difficult to achieve.
Much like a complicated bond or derivative contract, the Lego dinosaur's utility to the "investor" (young child) depends on the "issuer" (assembling parent) completing several steps and all of the parts being in place. If, however, the "regulator" (cleaning parent) is used to dealing with modeling clay, it is very likely she will expect modeling-clay like utility from the same value of investment (this is fundamental flaw of assuming regulations based on historical data can handle new products). But what if a part is lost? Or, perhaps worse, the "investor" decides that airplanes are more fun than dinosaurs?
In the first case, there is a measurable loss of value. In the clay case, there is less overall dinosaur, but in the Lego case it's hard to say if there is much of a dinosaur left if certain critical pieces go missing. In the second, clay is easily reconfigurable, but specialized Legos, much like a car factory, are not. Thus, the kid with the Lego dinosaur had better keep liking dinosaurs, otherwise the "issuer" and "regulator" are in trouble.
The guest on NPR explained that most economic models tended to assume we were collectively playing with clay models. When suppliers are largely interchangable, barriers to entry are low, and the amount of equipment ("capital" in the microeconomic sense) required is minimal, this is largely true. For example, a good metal shop can be reconfigured from making parts for trailers to making snow shovels pretty quickly. More complicated products, like cars, require far more specialized equipment, and so there is a tendency to do everything possible to keep the dinosaur together, since it has value in terms of jobs in politically sensitive areas that greatly exceeds its utility.
What does this mean? I'm not quite sure. I think this is the gist of George Soros' argument about a in confidence leading to the bursting of "super bubble." The whole point of a market economy is to let people decide how to value the things they use, and while this system is fairly robust to government interventions, laws and subsidies do not create usefulness. Which means, ultimately, they cannot preserve value.
Someone on a radio program, I think it was Talk of the Nation, a while back described the difference between the macro economist's view of capital and the business community's (and most of the country's) view by comparing a clay and Lego dinosaur. In both cases, the "value" of the parts is one dinosaur's worth of stuff, providing the "utility" of play to a dinosaur-loving child. The modeling clay dinosaur is easily reconfigured, providing utility in the event of the loss of small amounts of clay, but it has a nasty habit of staining carpets and you can't make good horns with it because they droop. Thus, the Lego dinosaur is probably more popular with parents who have carpet, and kids who want more realism. However, while the "value" of both is the same (1 dino), the "utility" of the Lego dino is more fragile and more difficult to achieve.
Much like a complicated bond or derivative contract, the Lego dinosaur's utility to the "investor" (young child) depends on the "issuer" (assembling parent) completing several steps and all of the parts being in place. If, however, the "regulator" (cleaning parent) is used to dealing with modeling clay, it is very likely she will expect modeling-clay like utility from the same value of investment (this is fundamental flaw of assuming regulations based on historical data can handle new products). But what if a part is lost? Or, perhaps worse, the "investor" decides that airplanes are more fun than dinosaurs?
In the first case, there is a measurable loss of value. In the clay case, there is less overall dinosaur, but in the Lego case it's hard to say if there is much of a dinosaur left if certain critical pieces go missing. In the second, clay is easily reconfigurable, but specialized Legos, much like a car factory, are not. Thus, the kid with the Lego dinosaur had better keep liking dinosaurs, otherwise the "issuer" and "regulator" are in trouble.
The guest on NPR explained that most economic models tended to assume we were collectively playing with clay models. When suppliers are largely interchangable, barriers to entry are low, and the amount of equipment ("capital" in the microeconomic sense) required is minimal, this is largely true. For example, a good metal shop can be reconfigured from making parts for trailers to making snow shovels pretty quickly. More complicated products, like cars, require far more specialized equipment, and so there is a tendency to do everything possible to keep the dinosaur together, since it has value in terms of jobs in politically sensitive areas that greatly exceeds its utility.
What does this mean? I'm not quite sure. I think this is the gist of George Soros' argument about a in confidence leading to the bursting of "super bubble." The whole point of a market economy is to let people decide how to value the things they use, and while this system is fairly robust to government interventions, laws and subsidies do not create usefulness. Which means, ultimately, they cannot preserve value.
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