Food and fashion are two life pleasures which, contrary to popular opinion, are pretty damn complimentary. In Sartorial Snacks, we ask OC friends to model delicious new collections and create recipes to match. First up, in honor of Ammerman Schlösberg’s cherry-licious spring collection, Liz Riccardi, digital design director at Nylon, baked us a killer pie—and proved glitter platforms and “XXXmas” overalls beat aprons any day.
My love of baking started with my parents. I grew up sitting on the kitchen counter, flipping through my mother’s red Betty Crocker cookbook while she rolled out crust. She bakes pies like it’s nothing, and no matter what I do mine will never be as good. My dad’s family is Italian, meanwhile, but instead of cannolis or spaghetti what I remember most is my Pop's apple pie. (And his pancakes, Oh. My. God. A story for another day.)
Like any great romance, my affair with pie hasn’t been without its ups and downs. There are the burned crusts, yes, but also the men I’ve baked for, never to be heard from again (fools); the supermarket employees who wonder aloud what one person could want with so much Crisco (fools part II); and the friends I’ve had to let go for not understanding rhubarb (#noregrets). Most recently, I suffered the raw pain of searching every grocery store in Brooklyn for fresh sour cherries in the middle of April only to discover that they were not yet in season. It still stings. Le Sigh.
The baking goes on because the facts stand still: pie is delicious. Truly, I bake to fulfill a specific need in my own life to eat pie every day. That being said, this is an activity that will make you popular. “OMG you made that? Even the crust? From scratch?!” Cherry in particular is the it-girl of pies.
My rules for dressing while baking are simple. At Nylon, I work hard all day long (sitting at my computer) and usually when I come home I just wanna “let my hair down” ( - bra / + sweatpants). But, when it’s a special occasion or a party, I like to get into character. If you’re baking a funfetti cake, you probably want to look like funfetti cake. If you’re making a giant chocolate cake and giant chocolate cake isn’t your look, just wear something dark and sexy. If you’re baking Cherry Pie and you want to look like a badass babe from the future about to seduce everyone on a badass picnic from the past—then hello, YOU WIN. (And you should probably go on an OC shopping spree right now.)
I’ll be real with you: Cherry pie can be labor intensive. You want to bake with sour cherries, and they’re only around for about six weeks out of the year, from the end of June to July in New York. Of course, you can use the frozen or canned kind, as we did for this late-spring shoot, but I seriously recommend the real deal once in your life.
You’ll want to invest in a cherry pitter / straw / good friend to help with the pitting, otherwise it can really be… the pits. The rest is simple.
Liz’s Perfect Sour Cherry Pie
Crust
Ingredients:
(Yields enough dough for two 9” pie crusts)
4 cups of flour (use a little less at first because you will add more rolling out)
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1 1/3 cups Crisco
1 tablespoon of red wine vinegar
1 egg
1/2 cup of cold water
My love of baking started with my parents. I grew up sitting on the kitchen counter, flipping through my mother’s red Betty Crocker cookbook while she rolled out crust. She bakes pies like it’s nothing, and no matter what I do mine will never be as good. My dad’s family is Italian, meanwhile, but instead of cannolis or spaghetti what I remember most is my Pop's apple pie. (And his pancakes, Oh. My. God. A story for another day.)
Like any great romance, my affair with pie hasn’t been without its ups and downs. There are the burned crusts, yes, but also the men I’ve baked for, never to be heard from again (fools); the supermarket employees who wonder aloud what one person could want with so much Crisco (fools part II); and the friends I’ve had to let go for not understanding rhubarb (#noregrets). Most recently, I suffered the raw pain of searching every grocery store in Brooklyn for fresh sour cherries in the middle of April only to discover that they were not yet in season. It still stings. Le Sigh.
The baking goes on because the facts stand still: pie is delicious. Truly, I bake to fulfill a specific need in my own life to eat pie every day. That being said, this is an activity that will make you popular. “OMG you made that? Even the crust? From scratch?!” Cherry in particular is the it-girl of pies.
My rules for dressing while baking are simple. At Nylon, I work hard all day long (sitting at my computer) and usually when I come home I just wanna “let my hair down” ( - bra / + sweatpants). But, when it’s a special occasion or a party, I like to get into character. If you’re baking a funfetti cake, you probably want to look like funfetti cake. If you’re making a giant chocolate cake and giant chocolate cake isn’t your look, just wear something dark and sexy. If you’re baking Cherry Pie and you want to look like a badass babe from the future about to seduce everyone on a badass picnic from the past—then hello, YOU WIN. (And you should probably go on an OC shopping spree right now.)
I’ll be real with you: Cherry pie can be labor intensive. You want to bake with sour cherries, and they’re only around for about six weeks out of the year, from the end of June to July in New York. Of course, you can use the frozen or canned kind, as we did for this late-spring shoot, but I seriously recommend the real deal once in your life.
You’ll want to invest in a cherry pitter / straw / good friend to help with the pitting, otherwise it can really be… the pits. The rest is simple.
Liz’s Perfect Sour Cherry Pie
Crust
Ingredients:
(Yields enough dough for two 9” pie crusts)
4 cups of flour (use a little less at first because you will add more rolling out)
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1 1/3 cups Crisco
1 tablespoon of red wine vinegar
1 egg
1/2 cup of cold water
- Mix flour, sugar, and salt in a large bowl. Using a pastry cutter or fork, cut in the Crisco.
- Beat the mixture and add in the red wine vinegar, egg, and water.
- Use a wooden spoon to combine i