Ina Garten's Blueberry Pie

Here at the cafe, you all know that I have fondness for blueberries. And one of my favorite flavor pairings is blueberry and lemon. So when I received a complimentary copy of Food Network Magazine a couple of months ago and saw Ina Garten's recipe for Fresh Blueberry Pie (you can find that recipe here), which happened to include lemon, you know I had to try it. There were two components I was waiting on, though. Other people to help eat it and courage. 

I love pie and like to make pie, but it's the crust that always trips me up. I cannot make a good pie crust to save my life. I usually use the Pillsbury variety that you simply roll out, but they just aren't the same. But as I looked over Ina's recipe for her Perfect Pie Crusts (also found at the link above), I was determined to give it a go. And you know what? They didn't turn out too bad. 

I think a lot of that had to do with her instructions and tips. Which would also explain why she's one of my favorite chefs to watch on the Food Network. I like her teaching style. Teaching is different than telling. Teaching involves guidance and instruction and we all need that sometimes.

As luck would have it, blueberries were on sale the week I decided to make this attempt. Here they are, all rinsed and dried.

They were then tossed together with only a handful of ingredients, including lemon zest and juice, then spooned into my awaiting crust. 

I held my breath as I added my top crust, then pinched the edges together.

Next, I cut a few slits for the steam to escape, brushed with egg wash and sprinkled with sugar.

Less than an hour later...

I had my first pie with a homemade crust in ages. It's not nearly as pretty as Ruthy's pies, but I'd done what I set out to accomplish.

And it was delicious. In the future, I think I might add and extra quarter to half a cup of sugar to the filling, but that lemon was the perfect compliment to the blueberries. And the crust? That's now my go-to recipe.

So Ina Garten, wherever you are, thank you for giving me the courage to make my own pie crust.

Have you ever been determined to make something you once struggled with? What helped you take it across the finish line?

Award-winning author Mindy Obenhaus is passionate about touching readers with Biblical truths in an entertaining, and sometimes adventurous, manner. She lives on a ranch in Texas with her husband, one sassy pup, countless cattle, deer and the occasional coyote, mountain lion or snake. When she's not writing, she enjoys spending time with her grandchildren, cooking and watching copious amounts of the Hallmark Channel. Learn more at mindyobenhaus.com

Blueberry Pie with a Cornmeal Crust

When my children were young, my eldest would eat anything blueberry. We have a wonderful picture of her sitting in a highchair with blueberry yogurt pouring down her head, her face, and completely covering her.

So it's little surprise that her grown-up contribution to Thanksgiving each year is a blueberry pie.

This year she got creative. She'd seen this recipe in the NY Times for Blueberry pie with a crust made out of cornmeal.

Blueberry Pie with Cornmeal Crust



I'll admit, I was doubtful.

I'll also admit I was wrong.

It was AMAZING!!!

(Who cares that they probably didn't eat blueberry pie at the first Thanksgiving. They probably didn't eat pumpkin pie either!)


I shouldn't have been doubtful because I loved the blueberry cornbread muffins I used to make her when she was a child.

This pie was even better.

The sugar on top gave such a nice crunch and the cornmeal crust was perfection!

I took a picture of her pie. Good thing because there wasn't much of anything left.

My other daughter and I made an apple tart that was also really good but it definitely got overshadowed by the blueberry.

I know I should be on to Christmas cooking, but there was so much goodness at Thanksgiving that I'm holding out just a little longer!

What are some of your unusual recipe combinations?

Disappointments and Desserts

Helloooo, everybody! The Fresh Pioneer is back and I'm bummed. Totally and completely floored.

the bulbustercafe

 

Our usual trips to the blueberry farm will not be happening this year. There was a late spring storm that took out most of the early varieties and then a heat wave that ruined the rest. I'm CRUSHED. We usually pick about 150lbs a year, freeze and share, and it doesn't even make it until January. Forget about how awesomely healthy blueberries are, how low in calories, and how you can use them 39 different ways.

I was thinking about this. These moments. Little boys with buckets. Toddlers picking perfect berries with perfect, chubby fingers. Older sisters squealing at spiders. Bigger boys pointing out frogs.

I thought of 'helpful' hands washing the berries and eating a whole lot. (The berries are unsprayed, all organic because the farm is part of the Umatilla Indian Reservation and the animals are considered 'owners' of the land and they prefer their berries natural, thank you very much.)

I was thinking of those pie-making moments, the 'flour all over the floor and we're okay with it' moments. Those 'I got a really sour berry' moments.

I thought of those lattice-crust pies that were made by very small people and tasted better than mine.

I thought of the time we picked in an afternoon thunderstorm. Every time the thunder rumbled, the wild turkeys over the hedge answered with loud gobbles. We laughed so hard we could hardly pick.

I thought of the blueberry pies we made with crazy crusts because a two year old loved stars and wanted them on everything he ate.

I thought of the perfect summer night desserts, made with Greek yoghurt, graham crackers and a little wild honey.

I thought bowl after bowl of giant, sweet Toros that we shared with neighbors and visitors and family and friends. Toros don't freeze well. You pick them to enjoy, within hours.

 I must have made the same phone call twenty times: Come on over, we just went picking.

Or: Did you eat dessert yet? We're coming over and bringing fresh blueberries.

Sometimes we made ice cream and added home made blueberry syrup. Sweet, potent, addicting.

I've never actually taken a picture of the road. But if I ever did, it would look like this.

layoutsparks.com

 

 It's not the blueberries, it's the memories. And I thought this year would be just the same. I never considered how it would be if we didn't get to mark our summer with a sweltering trip to the blueberry farm. The kids always fought over who got to hold the buckets on the way home. The girls passed, knowing something with too many legs could crawl out at any moment. The boys fought for the rights to eat handfuls and handfuls while Mama was too busy driving the windy dirt road back to town.

  So, we wallowed for a while in our disappointment. Then I took a deep breath and tried to look at all the wonderful things that are happening.

My new book is being a total over-achiever. It sold 600 copies on the 14th alone, only 8 days after it went up for sale. It's not quite a bucket of fresh blueberries, but it's okay.

The blackberries are ripe. We picked and picked and picked, hoping to make a pie. But we'll have to go back because once we got them home and all washed... this was what was left after all the 'sampling'.
 The pie will wait. A summer's walk along the river as the sun sets, kids racing to fill their little buckets... It's not a blueberry farm, but it's okay.

A new writer friend sent me a gift out of the blue. Actual, honest-to-goodness Jane Austen stamps! I swooned. It's not a freezer full of Chandler blueberries, but it's pretty darn okay.

So, I've made peace with our summer-of-no-blueberries. I bought a little bag of frozen ones at the grocery store and made a dessert.

Cook and serve vanilla pudding.

 Store-bought oatmeal cookies. The crunchy kind.

 Broken up pieces of cookies in the bottom of the ramekin...

 Store bought frozen blueberries...

 Onto the cookies and sprinkle with cinnamon...

 Pour in hot pudding before it sets...

Chill two hours. Add more cookies to the top. It's not a blueberry farm, but it will do.

It will be a summer of memories no matter what.

And for that, I am grateful.



Beach Party Lingo!

Nothing says summer like the beach. I may not get there this summer but I return often in my memories. I've learned beach vacations mean different things for different people.  Families have special places they return to each year.  They eat different food. Do different things. Read different books.  So many memories.   Here are some of mine:

Blueberry Pie

Ahem, I know what you are thinking. “Julie is a member of the Partridge family?” or “That is not a picture of blueberry pie.”  I was obsessed with Partridge Family books that went along with the TV program.  In one adventure, David and the rest of the family had a cookout in a New England cove.  Clam bake, corn and blueberry pie.  For some reason, the writer’s description has stayed in my memory until today.  If blueberry pie is on the menu, I get it. If it isn’t, I make it.

Chincoteague

My best beach memories from childhood involve Chincoteague, Virginia.  You may have heard of town, its famous pony roundup to benefit the fire department or the book Misty of Chincoteague.  I loved Chincoteague and its beach on Assateague Island. No development. Just ponies, miles of unadulterated beach, and dinners of Mom’s steamed seafood.  

Calabash Style

Calabash has more restaurants than people! More fried seafood than anywhere else it seems.

When I moved to North Carolina from Maryland, I had to get used to developed beaches and Calabash style seafood.  Man O and I compromised on the beach style by going to Kure Beach, located near Fort Fisher Park with undeveloped beachfront, an aquarium and Civil War fort to explore. But it also meant I had to eat seafood deep fried, served with hushpuppies and key lime pie. What makes Calabash style different from other fried seafood is using self-rising flour which makes it a lighter coating. Or so my research tells me. Sadly, with my allergies, I am back to steamed. Happily, there is Old Bay seasoning.      

Old Bay Seasoning

You can’t grow up in Maryland without knowing about this classic seasoning The history of Old Bay. Educate yourself. .  I know people who can’t get it where they live in the US so they stock up when they come back home to visit.  My mother would steam shrimp and crabs and sprinkle the Old Bay on with butter and gusto! 

Crab Cakes 

North Carolina has blue soft shell crabs that are eaten whole on the buns, not Maryland crab cakes. Just not the same.  I can’t think about my crab staring at me while I eat it.  Also, there’s a reason places call their crab cakes “Maryland style.”  Maryland has the best crab cakes hands down and that is my best summer memory.  The original recipe on the box includes breadcrumbs but the mark of a great crab cake is as little bread as possible in the patty. This is also a great way to fix tuna or salmon cakes. Crab is pricey but tuna doesn't hold the same memories!!!

So what are your beach memories or lake stories?