Behind every good chef is a mom

Often it's these simple childhood memories that plant the first seeds for a culinary career.

Chef James Corwell, who has twice represented the US in the Culinary Olympics, says boyhood walks in the woods with his mother helped cultivate his interest in fresh food.

Now executive chef at the Culinary Institute of America's Wine Spectator Greystone Restaurant in St. Helena, Calif., and one of 60 certified master chefs in the country, Mr. Corwell would pick blackberries, blueberries, and peaches on those walks, which he and his mother typically took to the local market near their home outside Atlanta. His mother - a painter, naturalist, and avid cook - would also teach him about the plants growing along their path.

Later, his family moved to a small farm in North Carolina, where Corwell's mother put him in charge of feeding the rabbits and chickens twice a day.

When he was 8, she taught him how to pick green beans, and soon after, the right way to slice radishes and tomatoes.

She would serve large platters of freshly cooked Southern-style meals - lots of leafy greens, okra, and summer squash, as well as dishes such as pickled cauliflower, stewed tomatoes, and farm-raised North Carolina pork cooked umpteen different ways.

Her insistence on cooking with the freshest ingredients she could find and presenting platters of food in an attractive, painterly fashion have stayed with Corwell all of these years.

"I attribute my creativity to her, as well as my sense of flavor, which is light, fresh, and vibrant," he says. "Mom never served anything prepackaged or processed."

Corwell tries to instill in his own three children the same passion for fresh, home-style cooking that his mother taught him. And he's met with success - mostly.

His daughter, the middle child, loves fresh fruits and salads, Corwell notes. His youngest son shares his father's keen taste buds and willingness to try new foods. "He'll eat anything, and he loves to cook with me," he says. But Corwell's 15-year-old son isn't that much different from other teens. "Pizza is still his preference," says his dad with a sigh.

For the pie:
10-inch pie shell (homemade or purchased)
3 cups rhubarb
1-1/2 to 2 cups granulated sugar, to taste
3 tablespoons tapioca

For the streusel:
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
7 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour

Lightly butter a 10-inch pie plate, preferably glass. If making the pie shell from scratch, prepare dough according to recipe directions.

On a generously floured board, roll dough out to a 14-inch circle about 1/8-inch thick.

Line pie plate with dough, leaving about 1/4-inch overhang. Pinch up excess dough to form an upright fluted edge. Place in refrigerator and chill about 1 hour.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

To prebake the pie shell, either homemade or store-bought, line dough with a sheet of parchment paper or aluminum foil and fill with pie weights, beans, or rice. Bake for 25 minutes, remove paper or foil and weights, and set shell aside.

Clean rhubarb well and cut stalks into 1/2-inch pieces. Toss with the granulated sugar in a large bowl and let sit at room temperature for 15 minutes.

Sprinkle the tapioca over the filling in the bowl, toss well, and let sit an additional 15 minutes.

Meanwhile, make the streusel topping for the pie: With an electric mixer, cream together the brown sugar and butter until smooth. Add the cinnamon and salt, and mix until blended.

Finally, add the flour and mix with your fingertips just until the topping is crumbly.

Pour the rhubarb filling into the prebaked pie shell and sprinkle the streusel over the top.

Bake until the top is browned and the juices bubble around the edges, about 1 hour and 15 minutes. Set aside on a rack to cool to room temperature before serving.

Serves 8 to 10.

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