Summer Berry Icebox Pie

I know it’s been awhile. I could spend a couple of inches talking about why I’ve been absent: because I’m feeling weird while trying to plan my wedding in the middle of my parents’ gnarly divorce, or because I got a very, very small taste of success with this blog and of course I had to immediately nip that in the bud, or because I’m sad because my whole family is in a fight right now, or because I started to care about this bloggo and felt like I didn’t want to do it at all if I couldn’t put the time needed into it for the above reasons, or I could just shut up about my endlessly gay life that is probably as endlessly gay as any of yours, I’m sure, and just shove some fucking content down your gullets. How ‘bout a little pie, everybody.

Separate, but equal.

It is kinda mean, actually, for me to even suggest this pie to anybody outside of the Columbia/Willamette River Valley area of Central/Northwest Oregon. This pie can be the very picture of Garbage In, Garbage Out. It is made almost entirely from 6 cups of fresh berries, and if you live in a place that has shit berries, well then guess what kind of pie you are gonna end up with. I have been spoiled rotten. There are a few farms around my house that produce berries that should not exist outside of magazine covers. They are just amazing. So, you could try to make this pie with your grocery store fruit from Chile and Argentina and maybe California too, and it is probably not going to make anybody throw up or turn your dinner table over in a fit of rage and disgust. However, if you happen to have access to a farmers' market or your own backyard, then by all means use your local fruits to make this pie. I have made it twice now – once with all local fruit, and once with local blackberries and store-bought strawberries and raspberries, and the difference was palatable, so to speak.

I also understand that I sound like every episode of "Portlandia." Here is the thing: When you are in Vegas, you play slots. When you are in Miami, you go to the beach. When you are anywhere even CLOSE to Portland, Oregon, you eat fresh, fabulous fucking food. It's just how things roll around here. The restaurants, the food carts, the wineries, the markets - everybody loves to eat clean and local foods. And I know it's cute to make fun of that and to PUT A BIRD ON IT AHHAHAHAHA RIGHT GUYS?!?!?! but I can't really apologize for being in this environment. Or I could, but then I have to think about how most of the world is starving right now and about a zillion babies are dying in Somalia every hour, and how it is an outrageous fluke of luck and cosmic chaos that I was born a privileged-ass white girl and have every opportunity in the world and yet somehow still manage to feel shitty about myself for a couple of hours everyday, and really man? I just wanna eat some fucking pie about it already.

I got this recipe from American Test Kitchen’s “Healthy Kitchen” Summer 2011 magazine, which of course I had to pick up while I was geeking in line at the grocery. I have been living under a rock and had no idea about this institution or its several magazines and public television show. I also had never heard of the White Stripes until like 2004. This is the way I do things – late and tinged with just enough self-awareness as to make me uncomfortable in most situations. Anyway, I found this magazine to be quite helpful and interesting, and this recipe for Summer Berry Icebox Pie is the bomb.com and you are a dummy if you don’t make it and eat it in your face right this very minute.

Shizz Besides the Basics:

More Crumbs than a Zwigoff film.

9 inches of unadulterated pie plate. However, I used a 10 or 11 inch IKEA pie plate like thing and it was awesome -- a little more like a tart than a pie, but just barely. In addition, you’ll need the use of a blender and access to a fine mesh strainer. Also, the recipe in the book says to use 8 whole graham crackers, broken into 1 inch pieces and then to pulse the crackers in a food processor until you get crumbs, and then pulse the sugar and butter into it. I don’t have a food processor, so I bought already made graham cracker crumbs. They sell them in a box in the baking aisle. Therefore, the recipe I will drop on you below will follow the already-made-graham-crumbs approach.

Ingredients:
Graham Cracker Crust:
1 and ¼ cup of boxed graham cracker crumbs

4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, melted and cooled

3 tablespoons natural cane sugar (ok, I’ma go off right here for just a tiny second. I recently decided to limit my intake of refined-ass processed white sugar. I got these cookbooks that are all about only natural and organic ingredients, and the one change that has made the most difference in the taste and quality of my foods, is swapping out gross sugar for rad sugar. You can find “sugar in the raw” looking sugar in the bulk section of your grocer. That’s what you want. Those bins are the shit. If you aren’t doing half of your grocery shopping in the bulk bins, then you are a dummy and you are paying too much for your dry foods. Anyway, stop using that shit sugar and use the natural cane sugar you can get in the bins for cheap, else try one of the Gucci natural sugars with a name. I have been all about the Demerara lately. It’s got these (and I totally know I am about to sound like a dick right here, but) subtle notes of vanilla and molasses and it’s just fucking amazing on and in everything. It makes the crust of this pie like a giant brown sugar cookie. Do it do it do it do it do it go get the fucking sugar already do it do it do it.)

Pie Filling:

All I can think of when I look at this picture is cat assholes.

2 cups raspberries (I swapped half my razzies for sliced strawberries and it was magical.)

2 cups blackberries

2 cups blueberries (Also, this recipe calls for FRESH berries only, frozen berries have no place here.)

½ cup natural cane sugar, like Demerara or Muscovado

3 tablespoons cornstarch (to be honest, I think they got it wrong here - or maybe there was enough structure already in the fruit puree - but it seemed like 3 TBSP of cornstarch made the puree a little stiff. I think I will try 2 and ½ tablespoons next time.

1/8 teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

A pint of berries at their "Scared Straight" intervention.

2 tablespoons red currant or apple jelly (ok, here is a little room for creative interpretation. I have a jar of local blueberry-lavender jam that is, simply put, the bee's knees. The little tiny hint of lavender that infuses the berries is just a righteous thing, man. If you don’t like lavender, then don’t use my jam in your pie, dude. I think any jam could work here. Get freaky with it. Got a little pear & ginger jam? Outrageous. Go crazy. Maybe stay away from the jalapeno jams, or the super citrusy marmalades, but who knows. Maybe those things would be legendary and I just have myopic culinary vision. Do it up. Lemme know how it goes.



Order of Operations:
1. Put an oven rack in the middle position and turn it up to 325.

2. Measure out your (4 TBSP) of unsalted butter and pop it into a microwavable bowl and nuke it until thoroughly melted, approx. 45 seconds. Cool it off on the countertop or maybe in the fridge, if there is room for it to hang out and not get its escaping heat on your other perishables.

Another crumby day on Wall Street.

3. While your butter chills out, measure out your (1 and ¼ C.) graham crumbs like you would flour and dump them into your batter bowl. Follow suit with your (3 TBSP) sugar. Set that batter bowl aside and get to work on your fruit until your melted butter is no longer hot to the touch.

Every caption I can think of is racist.

4. According to America’s Test Kitchens the best way to clean fresh berries of their dirt and debris is to place them in a bowl of clean water and bob them up and down gently with your hands. They go on to say you should salad spin them with some paper towels. I don’t spin them. I probably could, but it seems like an extra step that makes me work harder, and I can’t really abide that. This gal that wrote these natural cookbooks says that she doesn’t do the bob-in-water trick – instead she wipes her berries with a wet cloth like you do with wild mushrooms. Okay, first of all, you are an outrageous bitch, lady. I got six fucking cups of berries over here. It would take all damn day to gently mop down each individual berry segment. You are a freakshow and just because you live in San Francisco and are a vegetarian doesn’t mean that you get to boss me around about my fruit. Plus, if you have ever done the dunking method of berry debris removal, you will recall how many gross-ass dead bugs are floating around in the water afterwards. Like 30 or 40 little weird aphid looking fruit flies all curled up and mortised in your water bowl. Does she just eat all those fucking bugs, man? Because seriously, just wiping a berry down doesn’t get all those prehistoric nightmares out of the crevasses. What a pretentious, bug-eatin’ bitch. Who is the hot vegetarian princess now, you awesome bitch-face dream boat? How dare you be gorgeous and write two really good cookbooks and change my approach to cooking entirely and then also look down your nose at my chosen method of berry washing. The fucking nerve of some people. Kiss me and then go to hell, Heidi Swanson.

5. Fill your water bowl with, well, water. I use the same big-ass bowl that I use for dough and potato peeling and all those other big and messy jobs.

I'm also badass at shadow puppets.

6. Measure out 2 cups of blueberries – be sure to pick thru them first. Take off any weird dead flower blooms and toss any blueberries that look like shriveled smurf testicles. Dump your pretty blueberries into your water (alternatively, if you have a colander that fits into your water bowl, place your berries directly into your colander. It just makes it easier to bob your berries).

7. Follow your blueberries with your (2 C.) blackberries, and your (2 C.) raspberries (or strawberries, sliced into 4 thin triangles, or any combination thereof that equals a total of 6 cups of berries), all of them carefully picked over.



8. When every berry is in the colander, start dunking your colander into your water bowl. Pump those puppies up and down a few times, letting the gravitational pull of this dumb earth we sit on tug the dead and gross bugs and dirtie out of your berries. Dump out your water bowl and refill with clean water. Dunk some more. Pull the berry colander out of the water bowl and examine your water. When it looks like the majority of the flotsam in there is made out of raspberry hairs and not dirt clumps and bugs, then you may stop your dunking. It is ok if some of your more delicate raspberries got a little smooshed or fell apart a little. It happens to everybody sometimes.

9. Having come to the conclusion that you are no longer afraid of eating berry bugs in your pie, transfer your berries from your colander onto some paper towels where they might dry off a bit.

10. Return to your melted butter. If it has cooled down enough, then go ahead and toss it into your batter bowl with the graham crumbs and sugar. Use a stirring device to stir your business until your ingredients become well-moistened and mixed. It should look like what you would think it would look like – damp but crumbly and like you want to eat it right now.

11. Slowly spoon out your crust mixture into your pie plate or dish. Do not do as I did and just dump it all into the middle. It is easier to form a crust if you kind of just sprinkle and scatter the mix gently around the whole plate.

Fake your own moon lading at home!

12. Next, we are going to flatten the crumb mix into a proper pie crust. Use the bottom of a glass measuring cup or a custard ramekin to press the crumbs into an even layer on the bottom and sides of the pie plate. Really get in there and try to make your crust fairly even all around. Even thickness of crust means a better chance for even baking. Pop that bitch into your oven and bake it until the crust is fragrant and beginning to brown – essentially, when you come back into the kitchen and you want to eat the countertops because everything smells like a sugar cookie treat then your crust is probably did and you should take it out. Anywhere from 11 to 16 minutes. Keep an eye on that shit.

13. Transfer the pie plate to a wire rack and let it cool completely, about 45 minutes.

Fruition!

14. So now, you have your berries chilling out and getting dried off on some paper towellage, and your crust is releasing its heat into the atmosphere for 45 freaking minutes. Now is about 20 minutes of time you have to go check the mail, clean that horrible cat box, go shit around on the internet and maybe, if the gods come down from on high and infuse you with a special will of steel, then maybe you could go move that fucking load of laundry. Go enjoy/rue your life for about 20 and then come on back to the kitch.

15. Alright, look down at your berries on the paper towel. Some of them are gonna be ugly. It is just the way of life. Go thru and pick out all the ugly ones. Maybe they are split down the middle, or there is a bruise on that strawberry slice, or that one blackberry has two segments that are so light as to almost be pink and they are situated like accusatory eyes just burning holes right through your soul, or you know whatever you’ve got. The aim here is to get a total of 2 and ½ cups worth of berries that you are going to puree and strain, in order to make a base for your pie. So, ugly berries are meant for this task. You won’t have the full 2 ½ cups. You probably won’t even have one full cup. Just get all the ugly ones out first and then try to leave the best looking berries on the paper towel. These are your show berries. These are your studs. These are the bitches that are going to make whomever you have been so very fucking generous as to share this pie with, stand up and say “Holy Shit” when they see it for the first time.

Blender's Game.

16. Take your (2 ½ C.) ugly berries and toss them in your blender or food processor if you got one. Buzz them shits up into a smoove liquid. You should blend away all of the flesh of the berries until only the seeds remain in your puree. Now comes the only kinda shit part of making this beast.




17. We need to separate all dem seeds until we have a totally smooth puree of berry guts that we can mix with a little cornstarch and use as our pie base. Locate your fine mesh strainer, a rubber or silicone spatula or equivalent, and your smallest saucepan. Pour about half of your berry puree into your mesh strainer over said saucepan.

You jelly?

 

18. Use your spatula to press on the solids to extract as much puree as possible. When it looks like there is nothing left but seeds in your strainer, gently turn your strainer over. “Holy crap there’s like a ton of sauce under here!!” – you, a noob to puree staining. Use the side of your spatula to squeegee the underside puree into the saucepan with the rest of his friends. Do one more press on the solids on the inside, and one more scraping on the bottom side. Rinse both your spatula and your strainer out in the sink, and repeat with the other half of the puree left in the blender. Don’t forget to scrape the underjuice. All told, you want approx. 1 ½ cups of puree, so it might behoove you to extract the puree into a measuring cup first and then transfer to your saucepan. It really just depends on how close you want to fly to the sun.

Warning! May cause you to shill for the Republicans (that's a Cosby Joke).

19. Once you have all of your seedless puree into your saucepan, set it to heat on about 4ish. Medium low. Get a little mixing bowl and into it whisk your (~3 TBSP) cornstarch, (1/2 C.) sugar and (1/8 TSPN) salt. Once mixed, whisk the dry ingredients into the warming puree, making sure that it is evenly mixed. Bring the puree to a boil over medium heat, whisking pretty much constantly. You want your puree mixture to be the consistency of pudding. The recipe says that should take about 7 minutes. Both times I have made this pie, it happened in about 3 or 4 mins. So, either too much cornstarch, or something about the particular molecular structure of the sugars in these fruits that I couldn’t possibly remember from that book I read a few days ago. Just stand there whisking it constantly while it pops out little air bubbles like molten lava, until it clumps in the wires of your whisk like a pudding would. Remove it from the heat and squeeze in the (1 TBSP) fresh lemon juice, stir it up and let it sit until just warm. Go smoke a cig if you still have that horrible habit (what are you, 17?) and when you come back, your puree should be just about right.

20. Find your little jar of whatever awesomepants jam you are going to use, and take 2 tablespoons out and into a little bowl. Microwave for about 30 or 45 seconds until it is warmed thru and loosened up a bit. You want it super spreadable.

Just like gay Christians, these fruits are in a jam!

21. Locate your remaining 3 ½ cups of show berries. Remove them from the paper towels if they are still there, and place them into a large mixing bowl (I use my water bowl). Pour the heated jam or jelly or whatever you might call it over your show berries and toss very, very gently to coat. Just get your spatula back out and do a deliberate and slow pass thru a couple of times. You’ll figure it out. Next,

Al Honey, I miss you!

22. Pour the warmish puree into the totally cooled pie crust. Spread it round nice and slow. Like however many dollars of puddn from that one skit show on MTV in the gross early 90s with not-gay-yet Ian Michael Showatter, remember guys? Heh, remember this pop culture reference from our high school days, guys? Slap me a high five!


23. Now spoon out your delish jam-coated berries directly onto your puree goo. Lightly press them into the pie. Then go thru and obsessively turn every berry so that it faces out and evenly space your red berries so that there is enough symmetry to the pie that I will feel a certain amount of smuggish self-satisfaction like I made a fucking good looking pie just now, y’all. Or you know, however one might feel, were they to clearly demonstrate their genetic and mental superiority by making this super awesome pie. Look at you, sitting over there right now, with no fucking pie. Who is winning right now. And shut up, not like Charlie Sheen Winning or internet fail/ winning, but like actually winning. Actually and physically crossing the finish line of Who Just Made a Magical Pie. It is me. I’m having pie. I am the pie winner. And now, so are you.

24. Oh wait, PSYCH just kidding. You have to put some cling wrap on that pie and chill it in the fridge for THREE FUCKING HOURS until it is all-the-way set. But in three hours my friend, then, THEN you will be the pie winner.

Lemon Poppy Seed Bundt Cake Celebration

My Mom was here for the last ten days. In a row. My mother, from Texas. Ten.

It’s wild to have your family around you, like LIVING around you, after you haven’t done it for more than a weekend in the last 16 years. It is easy to get mad or incredulous at their completely human flaws. It is easy to forget that you are now older than they were when they had you. It is easy to misplace your compassion for other people who, exactly like you, had no fucking clue what they were doing when they did it, they just did it. They just lived and shared experiences with other people and made mistakes and tried to pay their debts and celebrate their successes in the very same way you yourself are doing exactly right now. It is easy to forget that they just had different experiences. And that is why they are who they are and you are who you are and everybody is WHO everybody is. It is easy, and stupid, to forget all that.

Recognize and Face the Reality of this Cookbook.

 For Christmas or my birthday a few years ago, my Mom gave me present. A cookbook. One she made, by hand. My Mom is one of these people that “scrapbook.” Often, to the detriment of whatever fun event we are all experiencing together, my Mother will inevitably stop us all in the middle of that activity so that she might take a picture of us, so that she might add it to a page in one of her maybe 20 unfinished scrapbooks. She has made and is still making scrapbooks for every one of her 4 children and 2 grandchildren, except for me. Scrapbooks celebrating a certain age, or wedding, or college career, or what have you. I thought for the longest time that I didn’t get a scrapbook because I didn’t do things like, “graduate from college” or “keep a boyfriend.” I was just sort of rotating between fabulous careers in retail, office administration and the art of waiting tables.

I don’t mean to be flip. I mean I do. I totally mean to be flip, but I don’t mean to hate on any one of those choices in career. I learned more about the human condition and about myself in those jobs than I ever did not finishing my college career. I didn’t make much money but the money I made I spent mostly on alcohol and hilarious adventures and it was awesome and I don’t regret those outrageous nights and early, early mornings one tiny bit. But, I did totally have my feelings hurt because ALL the other kids and grandkids had scrapbooks of their awesome lives and I did not. So, you gotta understand how much it meant to me, when I got the literal Mother of All Scrapbooks. It wasn’t that she didn’t think my life was worth documenting (or you know, maybe it was, who knows), but that she had been spending months of hours making a book that would mean something To Me. This cookbook she made, just the scale of it, is fucking impressive.

Don't even worry - I got Thanksgiving on lock down.

 It is strategically laid out according to coordinating color platforms and time-space efficiency. This cookbook can fill out its own 1040EZ. This cookbook became self aware and found the cure for pediatric AIDS ten years ago. It is also filled with recipes from the members of my family and childhood that I love and cherish with my whole heart. Unlike the other scrapbooks, it is a history book of more than just mine own life. And I fucking love it and it makes me cry just to think about it and I still remember to thank my Mom for making it for me at least once a quarter.

My mom writes like a girl.

So, in honor of my Moms and celebrating her visit, while also celebrating the fact that she went the fuck home afterwards, I made this recipe from the “Easter” section of the “Holidays” tab of my awesome-ass cookbook. It is an old recipe and an easy one. You can tell it is from the 60s or 70s because of all the damn eggs. It is the moistest and most dense cake and is literally amazing and it is a special gift from my mom to me to you. As my mother writes on this page - everything in the book is hand written because she wants me to have an example of her handwriting after she passes :(
“This is a Lenten season recipe. The poppy seeds represent new growth, and bursting forth from the Lenten experience.”





Shizz Besides the Basics:
You can make this recipe without a little hand mixer, but it is really a lot easier to do it with. You will also need a Bundt pan. And a clear schedule for at least three days because you are going to be eating cake.


Ingredients:
Cake:
1 package butter recipe yellow cake mix (Be sure to look for the butter or “golden butter” flave of cake mix. It is harder to find, but it is on that shelf somewhere, not necessarily next to the other yellow cakes. I think this is another sign that this recipe is older than the Nixon administration.)

I eat pieces of unfertilized ova like you for breakfast!

4 eggs (literally, four, eggs)

½ cup Wesson Oil (all vegetable oil used to be Wesson Oil, like a Davenport and a Hoover and a Coke. I use canola.)

¼ cup poppy seeds (cheaper in the bulk spices section)

1 small box instant vanilla pudding mix

2 tablespoons fresh squeezed lemon juice

It's a lemonparty!.

Glaze:
1 cup powdered sugar

1 teaspoon butter

~3 tablespoons lemon juice






Order of Operations:
1. Set ovens to stun, or 350.

2. The bulk of the short instruction given from my mother on this recipe is “Mix ingredients in order given.” And that is a very good place to start.

3. I am reading this book about the science of cooking and how to engage your thinly veiled autism spectrum disorder (nothing dis-orderly about this right here!!) into the magical cooking and baking process, and I think there really is some credence to having your shit at room temperature before you get going. So, if you can think about it, pop your eggs out of the ice box about half an hour early. Or don’t. Instead you can sit there and stifle the science that WANTS to work in your favor. Totally up to you.

Add some Cuervo Gold and you've got a wonderful night.

4. Whip out your hand beater you know what I am not even going to pluck that low hanging fruit I am just gonna keep right on telling you to use your hand-held electric mixer to incorporate your wet ingredients into your dry ones. Start by pouring the cake mix into a high-sided mixing bowl.



 

In every egg there hides a heart of gold. Even the brown ones.

5. Crack your room temperature but not salmonella’ed eggs one by one, into a separate, eggs-only tiny bowl. Crack one egg in the little bowl, and then inspect for errant shells, and then dump that one egg in with the cake mix. I have personally never gotten a gross half-germinated bloody weird egg. I suppose if I did I would probably just sick up all over my muffins and swear off cooking forever. But, if you were to get a bad egg, or lose a bunch of tiny pieces of shell into your cracked egg, you will only fuck up the one egg in your little bowl – not all four eggs, and not all four eggs + cake mix.

6. Add your (1/4 cup) Wesson Earl and your (1 cup) water.

Pretty sure this is a full time job in Afghanistan.

7. (1/4 cup) of poppy seeds into the mix. Side note – this recipe will cause you to fail drug tests for heroin. So, maybe not the best treat for aspiring pilots, Life-Flight nurses, Angelina Jolie.

 
 8. Instant Jello Puddn gets torn open and dumped right up in there.

You should see how I treat my Honey.

 9. Squeeze out a couple of tablespoons (usually about one half of a lemon) of juice and toss it on in. There are many, many more efficient methods of juicing a lemon than the one pictured here, but not as many methods make such rad photos. At your own house, choose the juicing method that best suits YOUR particular set of needs. Go on, you deserve it.


 

You want your batter more like New York and less like Birmingham.

10. Use your hand mixer and blend until you have a smooth batter with more or less equally integrated poppy seeds. Then you shall ready your vessel.





11. There are two methods to preparing the Bundt pan. One can either use the Baking spray from Pam, which does a bang up job at keeping shit from sticking and also doesn’t add fat and calories, OR...one can keep in the tradition of the times from which this recipe was born, and one can grease + flour their Bundt pan. Guess which one I’mma do.

12. I don’t have “shortening” or “Crisco” or whatever because I am not that committed to suicide right now. I DO however have what can only be described as “Deenian” amounts of butter. Hilariously, I just googled paula dean to see how to spell her last name, and 4th thing to auto-suggest was “paula deen riding things”. That’s kinda hilarious in a way that is almost funny.

A scene from the upcoming summer blockbuster, American Bundt.

13. Grab a pat of butter and smear it on every inside surface of your Bundt pan. I think a liberal application is appropriate here. You are building the foundation for the amazing crispety crust your cake will grow as a means of defense to keep you out, or to keep mother nature in. If God was here, he’d tell it to your face: Man is some kind of sinner. WHooAaaoOoa.

Bam Margera aint got shit on me.

14. Next, a tablespoon of white flour, if you please. Shake your flour out of your measuring spoon in a manner such as to evenly distribute your flour over the buttery sticky walls. It doesn’t need to be perfect at this stage, just kinda in the bowl and around everywhere.






 15. Then make like a tambourine and bop your Bundt pan with your hand, bouncing your excess flour around until all your flourless patches are now a beautiful, pristine white. Think “Ranch Dressing on Pizza White.” Or “Tea Party White.” Or “Will.I.Am White.” I don’t even know who that is other than I saw him on an episode of American Idol so I am assuming he is the new Will Smith Black Guy that everybody gets to make fun of as being “too white.” If there is a more appropriate African-American Celebrity Entertainer But Not One In Sports for me to use there, then just go ahead and make that mental substitution on your own. Dump out any leftover flour that just doesn't want to stick to anything.

16. Once your Bundt pan is sufficiently tarred and feathered, then grab your batter bowl and gently pour your batter into your Bundt pan, using gravity to help you, until you have scraped every last drop into that frickin pan. Then lift the whole pan up and give it a little whack against the countertop, just to be sure no air bubbles are trying to sabotage your business. Place your Bundt pan on a cookie sheet stabilizer if you like (this might also help more-evenly distribute the heat, but I am not sure because I haven’t finished reading that chapter yet) and pop it into the oven.

17. My momma’s recipe says leave it go for 40 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. I tell ya, I had to leave mine go for near 55 minutes, and I coulda left it another 10 probably. It is a dense ass cake. Lotta wet in there to turn into dry. And the best part about this cake is the juxtaposition of the crunchity crust and the moist moist moist (ha made you say it three times, Alex) cake, and you need long and even heat to get that crust. So, know your oven and figure out your time accordingly. But prepare to have to wait a fucking whole hour for cake. Don’t start this shit after dinner, thinking you gonna have dessert before it’s sexy time with your partner. Because it is guaranteed you will have to give up the ass before you get your cake. Dudes cannot wait an hour for dessert. Scientific Fact.

When your cake reaches maturity, it'll have taken several pricks.

18. Alright alright okay. So use one of those millions of extra wooden toothpicks you have diligently stocked in your pantry, just for the occasion of cake testing, and stick it in your cake. If it comes out without a million crumbs and wet shit stuck to it, then you can take the cake. Otherwise, 7 more minutes and try again.


19. When the cake comes out, let it cool for just a spell while you make up some glaaaaaaaaze.

Chris Farley's last meal(s).

20. Small saucepan, medium heat, (1 teaspoon) butter goes in. (1 cup) of powdered sugar, and about three tablespoons of lemon juice. Stir and heat until it all dissolves and looks like glaze, maybe 3 or 5 minutes. Remove from heat for 2 minutes and let it thicken up just a hair.




21. Grab yourself a nice cake surface. Maybe you have a cake plate. Maybe you have a pedestal cake thing because you had a lot of cousins and a registry at Crate & Barrel. Maybe you just have a big dinner plate or a cutting board. Whatever it is, choose it and get it ready.

Just out of the frame there are birds alighting on my shoulders.

 22. Using pot holders, as your Bundt pan will still be trying to stabilize its molecular structure by releasing stored heat into the atmosphere and burning the fuck out of you, grab your Bundt pan and flip it over, inverting it, onto your cake surface. Wiggle your pan, tap it, tambourine it, whatever and remove it from your cake, leaving a freaking beautiful cake on its appropriate surface.

I like glaze in my Bundt hole. Don't judge

23. Brush your glaze onto your still warm cake. I use my silicone pastry brush / sauce mop thing because it makes me feel fancy but you can easily drizzle that shit with a spoon. Drip it like erotic candle wax (I assume) onto your cake, letting it drip down on both sides, looking all awesome and glazey. This glaze will eventually harden off and should not be neglected when you find it stuck to the cake plate at a later cake feeding. It is very tasty, scraped off with a fork.


24. Slice yourself off a piece and burst forth with new growth.

Peach Cobbler with Vanilla Whipped Cream, Y'all.

Some shit with my family blew up this week and I figured that I better make some fucking peach cobbler about it. The thing about cobbler is that you don't just eat it for the one dessert - you eat it for breakfast and second breakfast and first lunch for the next 2 or 3 days, until you are firmly established in a shame spiral and you might as well just go on ahead and start making vague, yet thinly veiled, Facebook updates to begin fishing for concern for your well-being. As such, I fucked around and figured out the best possible single-serve (for two people) recipe for peach cobbler. This is not a low fat foods, but it is one serving and I chose to make it the hella labor intensive way, which allowed me a pretty awesome sense of accomplishment as I ate the hell out of this business.

(Sidenote: I tried this recipe again, using mixed forest berries (that's why the guts are purple in some of the pictures) instead of peaches and I found it a little too wet. If you wanna go that route, I suggest adding a hair more cornstarch and/or draining your frozen berries after you defrost them in the pan. Well, guess I'll be hitting the ol' dusty trail now.)



Shizz Besides The Basics:
6 oz. Pyrex custard ramekin x2
pastry cutter
serious whisk-arm

Ingredients:
Cobbler Guts:
frozen sliced peaches  (approx 1 1/2 cups but I will address this later)
2 tablespoons white sugar
2 tablespoons brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon pumpkin pie spice
1/2 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
1 teaspoon cornstarch


Cobbler Topping:
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons white sugar
2 tablespoons brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, chilled and cut into small pieces + one pat for greasing
2 tablespoons boiling water

Cobbler Topping Topping:
1 tablespoon white sugar mixed with
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

Whipped Cream:
3/4 cup whipping cream
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 tablespoon confectioners' (powdered) sugar
 


Order of Operations:
1. Preheat oven to 425.

2. Put ya kettle on for boiling water.

3. If you have a metal mixing bowl with high sides, put that bitch in the fridge.

4. Cut your butter into thirds and thirds again and put it back in the fridge to chill.

5. Pour enough frozen peaches to fill up one ramekin with room for a "chicken pot pie" type cover of doughy awesomeness on top.

6. Double that amount of peaches and pour into a medium saucepan set on medium heat. Stir and cook off the frost, approx 2 - 4 minutes.

7. Dry out ramekins with a paper towel and grease with the extra pat of butter. You don't have to use the whole pat, just get it lubed up.

8. Pour peaches and the melted off juices equally into the two greased ramekins.

 9. Spoon flour into dry measuring cups and level off with a butter knife (if you aren't sure how to do this, Google it or kill yourself because all hope is lost). Add remaining Cobbler Topping dry ingredients to flour and mix it with da whisk.

10. Take chilled butter pieces out of the fridge and use your pastry cutter to cut the butter into the flour mix until it resembles the "coarse meal" everybody's always talking about.

11. Put the whole bowl of coarse butter flour meal back into the fridge until the kettle blows.


12. Add 2 tablespoons boiling water to flour mix and stir it up.

13. Spoon half of the mixture on top of each ramekin, covering the whole business, and then cover THAT business with the sugar/cinnamon mix. Just sprinkle it on 'til you are satisfied with its sugar saturation.

14. Pop ramekins onto a jelly roll pan (a cookie sheet with a rim) and into your awesomely preheated oven.

15. My oven takes 14:30 to get the job done, but I start looking through the window at about 12 minutes. If you look in the window and find your dough to be fluffy and goldendark brown, then it's Touchdown Dallas at your house.

16. Immediately start whipping the cream cause it takes almost the whole freaking 15 minutes to do it.

17. Pull out chilled metal mixing bowl from fridge (seriously, it's cool if you use any bowl, but this shit is so arduous that any little leg up can help, and keeping it chill and trill certainly does) and eyeball your 3/4 cup of cream or whatevs into the bowl. Have your teaspoon and vanilla and powdered sugar on standby at the ready. Get your muscly whisking arm fired up and get going on it. You + cream + bowl + whisk shall become one entity over the next 12 to 14 minutes or so, so get after it.


18. Once your cream has passed Egg Nog Looking and Potato Soup Looking (forming soft peaks), add the vanilla and powdered sugar. Keep on whisking the hell out of it. It should hurt and you should love it.

19. Your arms hurts like shit. Your electric mixer is softly scoffing at you from high on the pantry shelf, but you have to earn this shit, so shut up and do like Devo says some more.

20. Cobblers come out of the oven and now the hardest part of the whole process : your ass has to wait at least 5 minutes for that business to chill, so your whipped cream doesn't immediately implode like an Easter Peep on the surface of the sun. Be like Fonzie and hang out a minute. Your whipped cream should be looking like whipped cream right about now. If you get there before your cobbler is out of the oven, refrigerate that ass until the cobblers are cooled.


21. Scoop your cream out onto your cobblers and RELISH the destruction of your perfect calorie day. Fuck it up and love it.