Majarkeun

matcha buttermilk chess pie

matcha buttermilk chess pie

Last October, I dragged Erlend out to Gowanus to pick up a couple slices of pie from Four & Twenty Blackbirds. It was my first time at the pie shop, missing previous opportunities to go there (first when it was closed for the holidays, second when I had to abandon a Brooklyn breakfast crawl early to catch my flight). From the outside, the bakery lived up to its hype, with its mismatching tables and chalkboard menu giving it a twee, cozy vibe.

Because it was October and no fruits were really in season, they didn't have too many fruit pies to offer. Instead, they had a handful of buttermilk custard based pies, including a matcha buttermilk pie. Matcha (that is, green tea powder) is one of my favorite ingredients to bake with as it can give classic baked goods an interesting, unique twist (case in point: this recipe for matcha marble pound cake, or these matcha white chocolate macadamia cookies). It can be tricky to work with though — too much can make desserts too bitter, too umami (sometimes it can taste like seaweed!), and too little can be bland.

I'm sorry to report that, despite the brilliant green color of Four and Twenty Blackbirds' matcha pie, all three of us (Erlend, my friend Julie, and myself) found the pie too flavorless. There was no hint of matcha flavor in the custard at all — it seemed like Four and Twenty had played it too safe and ended up with a custard that was too bland. I returned back to San Francisco with a new goal of trying to create my own matcha buttermilk pie that would live up to my standards.


It took a few tries to get the recipe right. I first started experimenting with the buttermilk chess pie recipe in their cookbook, assuming that this was the recipe that they'd created their matcha pie with (though they also had a chamomile buttermilk pie recipe that the matcha pie could have been based on, so maybe I'm just flat-out wrong, which would make this entire post moot... but whatever).

The first iteration turned out to be... fine, just fine. The custard, which I'd spiked with three tablespoons of matcha, was far more flavorful than the version I'd had in their shop. The bigger problem was the crust. Since I'd recently discovered the magic of lard pie crusts, I'd foolishly decided to use one as a base for the matcha custard pie and it just didn't work. Together, the custard and the lard crust was almost... savory. Blegh.

So for the second iteration, I went with an all-butter crust. Even though I'm still a bigger fan of lard crust ('cuz even despite the icky factor, they're seriously much easier to work with), the all-butter crust's flavor and richness complemented the matcha custard far better. The weird, savory taste was completely gone.


But interestingly enough, the all-butter crust highlighted some problems in the matcha custard that I hadn't noticed before when it was paired with the lard crust. The original recipe from the cookbook uses both sour cream and vinegar (for some reason), both of which were overpowering the delicate flavor of the matcha. Not wanting to add more matcha, I decided to replace the sour cream with crème fraîche (its much milder sibling) and omit the vinegar entirely. And BOOM. Third time around, I think I nailed it.

So without further ado, the recipe for the matcha buttermilk pie Four and Twenty Blackbirds should be serving. No need to trek out to New York, no need to trek out to Gowanus. Their same pie, just better, fresher, and homemade.

You're welcome.


Some baker's notes:

• Matcha is available online, or in Asian grocery stores and specialty tea shops. Matcha tends to come in two different grades — ceremonial or culinary. Don't go for the ceremonial variety; it's used in traditional Japanese tea ceremonies and made with young tea leaves that give it a much more delicate flavor than the culinary variety. Plus, it's significantly more expensive too. Stick with the culinary grade!


• In general, when baking a pie with a liquid-based filling (like custard or cream), you'll need to "pre-bake" the pie beforehand. Pre-baking, also known as "blind baking", basically gives the crust the additional baking time that it needs to turn into the crispy and flaky pie crust that we all know and love, since custards and creams usually don't need as long to bake. Also, pre-baking helps to prevent the pie crust from getting soggy, which is incredibly important — you don't want a sad, soggy-bottomed pie! Unfortunately, pre-baking also sucks up a crazy amount of time since there are a ton of steps that require working the dough and letting it rest appropriately. Whenever I bake a pie, I always break it up into three days. If I want a pie by the weekend that has a crust that needs prebaking, I make the pie crust on Thursday night (and let the dough rest overnight), roll it out on Friday night (and let the shaped and fitted dough rest overnight), and finish it up (pre-baking, making the custard, and baking one last time) on Saturday. It sounds like a marathon, I know, but for somebody like me who works a full-time job in addition to blogging, I find that it actually gives me more time back for the weekend. 


• Also, to prebake the pie, you'll need some sort of pie weight to hold the crust down during its first bake. You can buy classic pie weights, or, if you don't want to spend money on something so specialized, you can substitute with a heat-conductive material liked beans or rice. The beans/rice will get a little toasty in the oven, but will still be edible!


• It took me many, many, MANY times filled with trial and error until I finally got comfortable with making pie crusts and started getting the results I wanted. This recipe for salty honey pie from last year contains a great summary of all my best pie baking tips — it's worth a read if you're embarking on one of my pie recipes, helping you understand why I'm so persnickety about the temperature of the ingredients and why I do things the way that I do. 

get the recipe »

Available link for download