Mixed Berry Pie
2 Comments
Fall raspberries come as a surprise, late in the season. Growing up in Texas, I had no idea that raspberry canes could produce a second batch late in the season, when frosts and freezes begin strafing the pastures. And no matter how long I've lived in colder places (Madison, Wisconsin, and now way northwestern Connecticut), these berries still shock me, perfect and dark on the vine, almost too juicy to pick, concentrated, an outright shock.
Life life, I suppose. Mine got away from me. I've been caught in a writing/editing miasma for the new book, a step-by-step plan to get off all processed food. The manuscript has really kicked my can across the page. Plus, we had house guests for the past week. And then the photo shoot for this very book was the past two days at our house! I went to bed right after dinner last night, dropped a sleeping pill on top of a glass or two of wine, and didn't even turn over in bed until the sun was high this morning.
Over the past two weeks, small things have snuck up on me. Like fall raspberries. Little moments of surprise in this otherwise hectic life. It's the nature of grace in this world: unexpected wonder in everyday things. And food so often fits that bill. Like that cup of terrific tea on an otherwise blah day. Or that cookie from the bakery while you're running errands. Or even raspberries when the world is turning hard and dark.
Fall raspberries have a deeper, more sophisticated flavor than their spring counterparts. "Port wine instead of a rosé"--that's how Bruce puts it. And they make a fantastic pie--even if they are rare enough to need a few other berries in the mix.
We've already covered the basics of a pie crust on this blog, so I'll leave it here in its original post here. Just double the recipe and roll out two circles, one to line the pie plate and one for the top crust.
Here's the filling: 2 cups raspberries, 3 cups of other berries (a mix of blueberries and red currants here), 2/3 cup sugar, 2 tablespoons instant tapioca, 1 1/2 tablespoons all-purpose flour, 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon, and 1/4 teaspoon salt.
Ta da! Mix that together in a big bowl, let it stand for 10 minutes, then pour it into the bottom crust. Cover with a top crust, then crimp the edges closed. Nothing really big there--just pinch them closed with your thumb and forefinger so there's so leakage in the oven. Cut a few slits across the top of the pie.
Bake in a preheated oven at 425F for 10 minutes, then drop the oven temperature to 350F and continue baking until the crust is lightly browned and the filling is bubbling through the slits on the crust, about another 45 minutes. Cool at least 15 minutes on a wire rack before slicing up into a fall wonder that'll stop the day's business and remind us all that food is a gift of grace from the world around us.
Reader Comments (2)
OK, I'm all for fall raspberries and knocking back a few brews after a long, hard day, but watch that sleeping pill/wine combo. I haven't known you for long, but I'll be really pissed off if you accidentally off yourself.
Listen, you can't believe what a wimp I am. I cut the darn pills into quarters. Does that tell you something? (Don't cut the wine glasses into quarters, though. I have my limits.)