Trude's Tart Crust

The only short crust you'll ever need

When it came to cooking, my grandparents developed a pretty efficient division of labor over the years. He made pickles and did anything involving the grill or smoker, and she cooked everything else (except pancakes, which he’d make on weekend mornings). While this arrangement was pretty heteronormative, it also worked out well for everyone, since he made great pickles and knew how to cook meat but was generally hopeless in the kitchen with anything more complicated than oatmeal.

She was a great cook. I’ve already mentioned her three-bean salad, and while her repertoire was resolutely traditional she understood flavor and execution (and presentation) so every meal looked lovely and tasted better. Whether you’re a freewheeling improviser or a careful rule-follower you need to have a foolproof pastry recipe like this one committed to muscle memory. It’s that useful.

And honestly, if you’re a fan of the bake-off or similar shows where they’re always messing around with hot water crusts or ludicrously laborious pastry doughs because they need them to have tensile strength or some other property necessary for executing the overblown challenge du jour, ignore all that. With a few exceptions, you need exactly one short crust for everything you’re going to want to make as a home baker. This is that crust.

Desserts were a specialty that Trude shared with her older sister Martha, whose Sachertorte was legendary. We’ve established that I’m not much of a dessert guy, but I sure did learn how to make this crust. It has served me admirably over the years in countless sweet and savory applications. It’s super simple, comes together in about a minute flat, and is both very flaky and very strong—you can roll it out super thin and it will still proudly hold a layer of fruit perfectly flat when baked. It gets rave reviews whenever I make it.