FOOD FRIDAY!

OPEN FACE UNBAKED BLUEBERRY PIE

First, thank you to everyone who has wished me luck on my various medical adventures. I'm late today because I was out getting an MRI on my hip (results next week--they're looking for a better view of a chip of bone the x-ray saw floating in there.) The rheumatologist yesterday said he thinks the elbow pain is "poor man's tennis elbow," simply tendonitis that comes with wear and tear. He based his judgement on the fact that the rheumatic factor blood test was only "borderline positive," and that I'm in fine shape otherwise. I was surprised, since I'm surrounded by people on both sides of my family with RA and figured it was only a matter of time before it showed up in me. But he gave me a non-steroidal pain pill and it seems to be working. If I don't have RA, that's fine with me!

While I'm on the subject: today's was my third MRI, and I find them quite a trip. It's like a half-hour symphonic work of experimental electronic music, complete with insistent, pulsating rhythms à la Phillip Glass. It's awfully loud, but I find myself getting into the sounds and feeling left high and dry when the technician suddenly has to change frequencies, like abruptly beginning a new "movement." I wanted to tell him it would be better if he could maybe fade out gradually. Simple pleasures, found in weird places....

Now, about this incredible pie. I owe it to a lifelong friend, Frankie, who goes with me all the way back to high school. She got married in the 60s and became a true domestic goddess, learning French cooking techniques from the very first Julia Child book (for example), while I went on into the Peace Corps and remained in a very different kind of life for years. We reunited in the 70s and have been like brother and sister ever since. She blew me away with the domestic skills she'd picked up while I was bumming around the world being kewl, and I continue to learn from her to this day.

This pie takes its inspiration from the glazed strawberry pies we've all enjoyed, those shiny, neon-red concoctions that are the essence of strawberry. This is the utter essence of blueberry, to me, a much more interesting flavor. It will work with virtually any fruit--I've made a knockout bing cherry pie using the same technique (the only thing I didn't like was pitting the damn cherries, but it's easy to bribe a helper with the promise of a pie), and I've made a mixed pie using blue-, rasp-, and blackberries. I've also done the pie using rhubarb in the syrup. All variations are delicious--once you have this basic pie down you can send your friends and family into summertime fruit pie ecstasy in a matter of a few minutes.

Crust:

Using your favorite pie crust recipe, make a shell and blind bake it.

Filling:

4 cups blueberries

1 cup granulated sugar

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

3 tablespoons cornstarch

1 cup water

1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

In a food processor or using a fork, mash 1 cup of the blueberries. Measure the sugar, cinnamon, cornstarch, and water into a saucepan and whisk until smooth. Stir in the mashed fruit and cook over medium-low heat for 7 to 10 minutes, or until the syrup is thick and clear. Stir in the lemon juice.

Taste the cooked syrup and correct the balance of sugar and lemon if necessary. Stir in the butter and heat until it melts, then pour in all the remaining berries and toss to coat them completely with the syrup. Remove from heat and allow to thicken slightly, then spoon into the cooked pastry shell and chill for at least 3 hours to set. Serve with ice cream or sweetened whipped cream.

FOOD FRIDAY!

Here's a quick and dirty recipe for the holiday. No picture because I just made it up here in Delaware and I have no photo software on this computer. I'll take the picture and post iot next week.

Call it "Red, White and Blue Pie." Make this Fresh Blueberry Pie. but substitute 1 cup pitted fresh Bing cherries for one of the cups of blueberries. Don't cook the cherries as part of the syrup. Just fold them in with the uncooked blueberries.

The "White" comes when you add whipped cream!

And now a silly 4th of July story:

By the time July 4, 1976 and the Bicentennial fireworks extravaganza rolled around, I had come back home and was living in downtown Washington, D.C. To miss this avidly anticipated event was unthinkable, of course, and since I lived right in town it was a matter of mere few blocks' stroll to be at the very heart of the celebrations.

But Riley, my boyfriend at the time, was perenially slow on the uptake, and never slower than at this special time, for some still unfathomable reason. Despite our proximity to all the sights, we arrived so late we'd have had better seats for the fireworks if we'd stayed home and watched them on TV.

I couldn't believe we had botched this incredible opportunity so badly. I made Riley promise he'd be better prepared for the tricentennial.

Happy 4th!