← Back to Blog

Cookiepedia: Writing It Down -- The Ritual of Recording What Matters Most

June 2031. Olivia and James are planning a September wedding. They've chosen a venue in D.C. — a garden space near where they both work, which will be decorated simply and where the reception will serve food that James's mother and I have been planning together via video calls for two months. His mother is excellent. Her name is Dorothy and she makes Chesapeake Bay crab cakes that are the best I've ever eaten, which I told her and she sent me the recipe, which I will not share because it's hers to give and she gave it to me in the spirit of exchange.

James's family coming into ours: the Chesapeake Bay traditions, the D.C. sensibility, the specific food vocabulary of a family from Maryland who takes the water's gifts seriously. I'm learning their kitchen the way I learned Mia's family's kitchen — one dish at a time, one story at a time, the exchange that happens when two families feed each other.

Noah is writing about it. Of course he is. He called this week and asked if he could write about the wedding preparation from the food angle — what happens when two food families merge, what the table looks like at that intersection. I said yes, with everyone's blessing. He got the blessing. He's writing it. My son, the food writer, writing about his sister's wedding from the kitchen outward. If that isn't the family in one sentence, nothing is.

Strawberry rhubarb pie this week. The annual ritual. The first rhubarb from the garden, which came in late this year but came. Everything comes eventually.

Dorothy’s crab cake recipe is hers to give — and she gave it to me, and I wrote it down immediately, because that’s the only way anything survives the passage of time and the chaos of a family in motion. That’s what this week’s ritual made me think about: the act of recording, of keeping a cookiepedia, a living document of the dishes that tell you who a family is. The strawberry rhubarb pie I made is in mine, and someday — when Olivia and James have their own kitchen and their own rhubarb coming in late from their own garden — I want her to be able to find it exactly as I make it, with all the notes in the margins.

Cookiepedia: Writing It Down

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 55 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 15 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

  • 2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting
  • 1 tablespoon granulated sugar, plus 1/2 cup for filling
  • 1 teaspoon salt, divided
  • 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, cold and cubed
  • 6–8 tablespoons ice water
  • 3 cups fresh rhubarb, sliced 1/2 inch thick
  • 2 cups fresh strawberries, hulled and halved
  • 1/3 cup light brown sugar, packed
  • 3 tablespoons cornstarch
  • 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
  • 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
  • 1 egg, beaten (for egg wash)
  • 1 tablespoon coarse sugar (for topping)

Instructions

  1. Make the crust. Whisk together flour, 1 tablespoon granulated sugar, and 1/2 teaspoon salt in a large bowl. Cut in cold butter using a pastry cutter or your fingertips until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs with some pea-sized pieces remaining.
  2. Add ice water. Drizzle in ice water one tablespoon at a time, mixing gently with a fork after each addition, until the dough just holds together when pinched. Do not overwork it. Divide into two discs, wrap in plastic, and refrigerate at least 1 hour.
  3. Prepare the filling. Combine rhubarb, strawberries, 1/2 cup granulated sugar, brown sugar, cornstarch, vanilla, cinnamon, and remaining 1/2 teaspoon salt in a large bowl. Toss well and let sit 10 minutes to draw out juices.
  4. Preheat the oven. Heat oven to 400°F. Place a rimmed baking sheet on the lower rack to catch any drips.
  5. Roll out the dough. On a lightly floured surface, roll one disc into a 12-inch circle. Fit into a 9-inch pie plate, leaving a 1-inch overhang. Pour in the filling and spread evenly.
  6. Top the pie. Roll out the second disc and lay it over the filling, or cut into strips for a lattice. Trim, fold, and crimp the edges to seal. Brush the top with beaten egg and sprinkle with coarse sugar. Cut several vents if using a full top crust.
  7. Bake. Bake at 400°F for 20 minutes, then reduce heat to 375°F and bake an additional 30–35 minutes, until the crust is deep golden and the filling is bubbling through the vents. If the edges brown too quickly, shield them with foil.
  8. Cool completely. Transfer to a wire rack and cool at least 2 hours before slicing. The filling will set as it cools — this step is worth the patience.
  9. Write it down. Before you serve it, take five minutes to note what you changed, what worked, what the rhubarb was like this year. That’s the cookiepedia part. That’s the part that lasts.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 420 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 22g | Carbs: 54g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 310mg

Michelle Larson
About the cook who shared this
Michelle Larson
Week 365 of Michelle’s 30-year story · Provo, Utah
Michelle is a forty-four-year-old mom of six in Provo, Utah, a former accountant who traded spreadsheets for freezer meal prep and never looked back. She is LDS, organized to a fault, and can fill a chest freezer with sixty labeled meals in a single Sunday afternoon. She lost her second baby to SIDS and carries that grief in everything she does — including the way she feeds her family, which she does with a precision and devotion that borders on sacred.

How Would You Spin It?

Put your own twist on this recipe — what would you add, remove, or swap?