Raspberry Hand Pies with Cinnamon-Orange Glaze

The video call with Sarah Olenick went for ninety minutes. She'd read all three chapters and had notes — real notes, the kind that come from someone who actually read what you wrote and thought about it, not the kind that are really just permission to say yes or no. We talked about structure, about what a seasonal arc might look like across a full year, about the difference between a recipe collection with essays and an essay collection with recipes. I told her it was the second one. She said she thought so too.

She's going to put together a formal offer. She said "probably two weeks" and I've been holding that timeline loosely, the way I try to hold most things now. Patrick asked how the call went and I told him it went well. He nodded and went back to watching the horses from the porch. Later he made me a cup of coffee without my asking, which is his version of saying something.

Linda called on Thursday evening. She's been working on a piece about Derek for a grief writing workshop she joined last winter — an essay about the first summer without him, about what it felt like to move through warm weather in a world he wasn't in anymore. She said it was nearly finished. Her voice had something in it that I haven't heard before — not the frailty of grief but something closer to its resolution. Like a knot that's been slowly loosening for five years and is finally starting to give way.

I told her I was glad she was writing it. I meant it more than I said it.

The rhubarb in the side garden came in heavy this year — thick red stalks I cut for a pie this weekend. I make the same rhubarb pie every late May, the one that uses a full two pounds of the stalks with just enough sugar to take the edge off. Patrick calls it "honest pie" because it doesn't pretend to be sweeter than it is. I added a crumble topping this time instead of the lattice crust, mostly because it was easier, but I might keep it. Sometimes the shortcut becomes the recipe.

The rhubarb pie I made this weekend got me thinking about what I said to Patrick — that sometimes the shortcut becomes the recipe — and these raspberry hand pies are the version of that thought I’d want to share with anyone who’s been afraid to change something that was already working. They’re individual, portable, a little imperfect at the edges, and finished with a glaze that has no business being as good as it is given how easy it comes together. Like a crumble topping instead of a lattice, like a cup of coffee made without asking — the simpler gesture often carries the most weight.

Prep Time: 25 min | Cook Time: 22 min | Total Time: 47 min | Servings: 8 hand pies

Ingredients

2 refrigerated pie crust sheets (or 1 batch homemade double-crust dough), chilled
2 cups fresh or frozen raspberries (thawed and drained if frozen)
3 tablespoons granulated sugar
1 tablespoon cornstarch
1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 egg, beaten (for egg wash)
1 tablespoon coarse sugar, for sprinkling
For the glaze:
3/4 cup powdered sugar, sifted
2 tablespoons fresh orange juice
1/2 teaspoon orange zest
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 400°F. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper and set aside.
Make the filling. In a medium bowl, gently stir together the raspberries, granulated sugar, cornstarch, lemon juice, and vanilla extract. Let sit for 5 minutes so the berries release a little juice and the cornstarch begins to coat them.
Cut the dough. On a lightly floured surface, unroll or roll out each pie crust sheet to about 1/8-inch thickness. Use a 4-inch round cutter (or a small bowl as a guide) to cut 8 circles total, re-rolling scraps as needed.
Fill and seal. Place a heaping tablespoon of raspberry filling onto the center of each dough circle, leaving a 1/2-inch border. Fold the dough over to form a half-moon shape and press the edges firmly together. Crimp with a fork to seal.
Egg wash and vent. Arrange the hand pies on the prepared baking sheet. Brush the tops with beaten egg and sprinkle with coarse sugar. Use a sharp knife to cut two small slits in the top of each pie to allow steam to escape.
Bake. Bake for 20–22 minutes, until the pies are deep golden and the filling is bubbling through the vents. Transfer to a wire rack and cool for at least 10 minutes before glazing.
Make the glaze. Whisk together the powdered sugar, orange juice, orange zest, and cinnamon until smooth. The glaze should be thick but pourable — add orange juice a teaspoon at a time if needed to loosen it.
Glaze and serve. Drizzle the glaze generously over the cooled hand pies. Allow the glaze to set for 5 minutes before serving. These are best the day they’re made but will keep loosely covered at room temperature for up to 2 days.

Nutrition (per serving)

Raspberry Hand Pies with Cinnamon-Orange Glaze — When the Shortcut Becomes the Recipe