If you were an alien being trying to follow the emotional nuances of human beings, you would do well to follow my school-holiday cooking schedule.
Last Night of Term: Comfort food spectacular for Brett (a 'well done honey!' feast).
1st week of Holidays: Serious Christmas Prep. Too much sugar, boring nightly menu.
2nd-4th weeks of Holidays: Blissful long-prep dishes that I don't have time for during term while single-handed baby-wrangling.
Last Day of Holidays: Some dish that screams 'home/comfort/care/love'.
It's possibly my last-ditch panicked attempt to help Brett (ahem) 'overlook' my new fashion...dishabille-without-the-innate-class, and give him one more extra-special treat before the dreaded TERM.
So, as it is summer and Portland is somewhat lax about Blackberry obliteration, there are tonnes and tonnes of shiny black berries just sitting there for the taking. This naturally results in Blackberry Pie (served with homemade vanilla bean icecream) and Blackberry Jam.
Last night my 8 month old son thought it would be amusing to be awake between 3 and 5am. This resulted in a pretty dire version of me this morning, but I was determined to do my pie, so I headed over to Mum and Dad's to recruit blackberry-pickers.
Dad's hand is always the first to go up for foraging adventures, so off we trotted to my favourite 'patch' (opposite the produce store).
The berries on offer were quite small this time (due largely to the serious lack of rain over xmas), but we forged ahead. Dad's 80 year old skin took a bit of damage...a few spectacular scratches and rivulets of blood, but he was pretty determined to get his pie and simply dabbed with his hanky and continued!
It did begin to rain in earnest mid-forage, but there was no point in returning home with 'almost enough' berries, so we pressed on. In the meantime I discovered that picking berries in the rain, stomping down aggressive canes with my big gumboots and humming folksongs was actually a tremendously pleasant way to spend a morning. Just me and Dad, quietly plucking in the cool stillness and enjoying being quiet together.
After an hour and a half of picking I finally had enough for my pie. Sadly, not enough for jam-making this time, but after the current rain, next weekend should see some nice big fat fellas ready for my jam pot!
So, while Brett headed off to have a looooong bath, Gabriel and I took to the kitchen to make pie.
Warning: this pastry is very VERY short. It results in a gorgeous, light, crumbly pie, but it isn't for the faint-of-heart (or the very tired....). After a few choice expletives, I did manage to get it together...well enough for the much-prized 'rustic' look anyway...
Pie filling Gabe 'helping' Fresh berries
Of course, being a sleep-deprived mess with a baby that absolutely and resolutely REFUSED to nap this afternoon, I completely forgot to take a photo of the finished product before I raced it over to Dad. In Lockley tradition, Dad always gets the first slice (only fair after his foraging efforts), and then I collect the remainder for Brett.
PASTRY
2 cups plain flour
1/2 cup almond meal
1 cup unsalted butter
1 tsp salt
2 tsp brown sugar
6 -8 tbsp iced water
FILLING
4 cups fresh blackberries
1/2 cup white sugar
1/2 cup plain flour
"Hey Mumma...." "I'ma gonna....." "Getcha!!!".
Not my pie, but this is pretty much exactly what you get!
Now to organise dinner and perchance, have a nice glass of wine...
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