Blueberry Hand Pies

Fruit + sugar + thickener + pastry. This isn’t a recipe, per se, so much as a technique; some of the best ones are. The blueberries around Baltimore are incredible right now—plums too. Raspberries, grapes, and ground cherries keep popping up, and it’s been a delicious season for white peaches and nectarines as well. You can make fah-ncy pop tarts out of any of this stuff by cooking a small amount of fruit into pie filling and then stuffing your favorite pastry with it. Rye pastry, rye pastry with beer, frissage’d buttery goodness, the food processor method, even a lard-based or cream cheese dough would work here: this is a pie for people who love crusts. And if you’re inclined toward blueberries, the filling outlined below is a super delicious way to go: strictly blueberries, sugar, salt, and thickener, there’s no lemon or vanilla to complicate flavors; it would work for any fruit. Here, the result is unbelievably berryish. Plop some hearty spoonfuls of cooled filling onto the pastry of your choice, seal, pinch, egg wash, toss with sugar, bake, and there you have it. Summer in an unfussy, buttery envelope.

Assembly

1 full recipe pastry (rye pastry below)

Fruit filling (blueberry below)

Egg wash + large-grain sugar

1.  Preheat oven to 400, and line two cookie sheets with parchment paper. Divide pastry in two, and roll out into long rectangles, about an eighth-inch thick. Working with one at a time, cut each half into an even number of smaller rectangles or squares; these are the tops and bottoms of your hand pie. I made six giant pies, but you could make little square pockets or stamp out round ones too.

2. Place your bottoms on the cookie sheet, line the edges of each piece with egg wash, then spoon your cooled filling into the middle. I used a little more than a quarter-cup of filling per hand pie. Top each piece with its matching pastry, then press down the edges to seal; use a knife or rotary cutter to trim up the edges before pinching decoratively. Egg wash the tops, coat with large-grain sugar, poke some holes or slits in the top, and chill in the fridge or freezer while you assemble round two.

3. Make sure both sets of pies are very cool before baking; about 30 minutes in the freezer should do it. Pop them into your screamin’ hot oven, and bake for about ten to 12 minutes, until pastry is golden and filling is bubbling out the top or around the edges. Cool, and enjoy! Best if eaten within one day.

Rye Pastry

Adapted from Kim Boyce, Good to the Grain

For rye dough

1 cup rye flour

1 cup all-purpose flour

1 tablespoon sugar

1 teaspoon salt

1 ½ sticks (6 ounces) cold unsalted butter

1 teaspoon apple cider vinegar

Ice water

1.  Sift the flours, sugar, and salt into a large bowl, dumping any grains that remain in the sifter back into the bowl. Cut the butter into half-inch pieces and add to the mixture. Rub the butter between your fingers to break it into smaller bits, until the butter ranges in size from hazelnuts to peas; work quickly!

2.  Add the vinegar and eight tablespoons of ice water to the mixture, using a rubber spatula or your hands to cut the liquid through the dry ingredients. The dough should come together as one shaggy lump. Squeeze it together to see if a ball forms, and if it’s too dry, add more water one tablespoon at a time until dough comes together. Pile the dough onto a sheet of plastic wrap, sprinkle with a few dots of water, wrap, and refrigerate for at least an hour or overnight.

3.   (This next bit is a tad technical, but folding and rolling the dough like this creates seriously flaky layers of pastry.) Unwrap the dough on a floured surface and pat it into square. Roll it out to a rectangle that’s roughly 8 ½ by 11 inches. The dough will be crumbly, but fear not! It will come together. For the first turn, fold the dough in thirds like a letter; the seam should be on the left. Rotate the dough so that the seam is at the top and parallel to your body, and roll out into an 8 ½ by 11 rectangle again. Fold and roll again, and repeat the process for a third, final time. Wrap the dough in plastic and chill for another hour at least, until ready to use.

Blueberry Filling

1 pound blueberries

2 ounces granulated sugar, or half honey, half sugar

.5 ounces cornstarch or tapioca starch

healthy pinch salt

1.  Whisk all your dries in a bowl, making sure the cornstarch is well blended. Toss the berries and dries in a wide, shallow pot, and cook over the highest heat, stirring all the while. The mixture will be dry at first, but in just a few minutes, the juices will start flowing and the filling will turn dark, beautiful purple. Continue cooking until filling boils, then boil for two to three minutes, until the opacity and smell of the cornstarch dissipate; you shouldn’t be able to taste it at all. Pour the filling out into a dish, press plastic to the top to prevent a skin, and cool in your fridge for about an hour or two.

Blueberry Whoopie Pies with Lemon Cream Cheese Filling

Whoopie pies were strictly a summer treat when I was a kid. It sounds backwards, considering summer is the time for lighter, fresher fare—jumbleberry pavlova, anyone?—but summer was when my family made its annual, magical pilgrimage to Maine, and along with sleep-away camp and fireworks, whoopie pies were the quintessential New England privilege. Even as a tried-and-true popsicle kid, I couldn’t resist the whoopie pies with their deep black cookies and bright white ropes of filling two fingers thick, beckoning from the counter at Day’s General Store in Belgrade Lakes. I’d poke at the tops through the plastic wrap, and was indulged especially on afternoons when my mom needed a sugar-chomping partner in crime. More than two decades later, the enormous, classic whoopie pies at Day’s are as insistent as ever.

Much regional ink has been spilled as to the origin of whoopie pies—there’s a cute story about Amish farmers yelling “Whoopie!” whenever they discovered the treat in their lunch pails—and a few years ago the Maine legislature considered adopting the cake as its official state dessert, but relegated it instead to just the official state “treat” (blueberry pie made with Maine blueberries is the official “dessert”). On behalf of the Pennsylvania Dutch, Lancaster County also took up the cause, claiming the whoopie pie originated within the traditions of Amish families. Whatever its true origin, the whoopie pie has a special place in my heart as part of a beloved Maine history, so I was more than jazzed to make this blueberry version on the farm over the weekend—it's a sort of ode to welcome returns. Plus, with that pudgy mound of filling in the center, this makes for a perfectly Maine-ish and delicious pre-summer treat. Enjoy!

And if you're interested in following along as I play midwife to baby goats this spring, check here for photos and updates...or just scroll all the way down. How could I resist!?

Blueberry Whoopie Pies

Adapted from the Food Network, of all places

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon fine salt

1/4 teaspoon baking soda

5 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened

2/3 cup granulated sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 large egg

1/3 cup buttermilk

3/4 cup blueberries

1. Whisk the flour, baking powder, salt and baking soda in a medium bowl. Beat the butter, sugar and vanilla on medium-high speed in a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment until light and fluffy, about five minutes. Beat in the egg until combined, scraping down the bowl. Reduce the mixer speed to low and beat in the flour mixture and milk in three
alternating batches, starting and ending with the flour. Fold in the blueberries with a rubber spatula.

2. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper, then coat with cooking spray or lightly grease with butter. Use a tablespoon or small ice cream scoop to scoop mounds of batter onto the sheets, spacing them each about two inches apart. Chill the batter in the fridge (or outside if it’s real cold!) for at least a half-hour; this helps the cakes stay round and puffed.

3. Bake until the halves are lightly golden, rotating the pans halfway through, 10 to 12 minutes; be careful not to overbake. Let cool on the pans for five minutes, then transfer to a rack to cool completely.

Lemon Cream Cheese Filling

Adapted from Baked Explorations

If lemon isn't your thing, just omit the zest and juice to get a straight-up cream cheese filling. You could also go for orange or add a bit of maple syrup for a sort of pancake experience, but we did enjoy the lemon.

4 ounces cream cheese, softened

4 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened

1 1/2 cups powdered sugar, sifted

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

Pinch salt

1 teaspoon lemon zest, optional

1 teaspoon lemon juice, optional

1. Beat the butter in or with an electric mixer until it is completely smooth, with no visible lumps. Add the cream cheese and beat until combined. Add the sifted confectioners’ sugar, vanilla, salt, and lemon zest and juice, if using. Beat until just smooth.

2. Turn half of the cooled cookies upside down (flat side facing up). Use an ice cream scoop or a tablespoon to drop a large dollop of filling onto the flat side of the cookie. Place another cookie, flat side down, on top of the filling. Press down slightly so that the filling spreads to the edges of the cookie.

3. Repeat until all the cookies are used. Put the whoopie pies in the refrigerator for about 30 minutes to firm up before serving. The whoopie pies will keep for up to three days, on a parchment-lined baking sheet covered with plastic wrap, in the refrigerator.

We'll be keeping them in the house until enough kids are born such that they can keep each other warm during the day and throughout the night. Until then: ridiculous indoor photos!

Blueberry Hyssop Pie

Slumpy little slice!

Our long-time cheesemaker, Arlene, is nursing her green thumb right along with her curd hands. Her garden out back runs amok with oodles of purple onions, more broccoli than we can shake a fork at, giant sunflowers, and hordes of a sweet little herb called hyssop. Previously unknown to me, hyssop has this week made its way into my iced tea, my lemonade, a goat cheese blueberry parfait, and inevitably, this pie. Known as licorice-mint in some parts of the country, and distinct from the same-named hyssop of the Mediterranean, anise hyssop hails from the mint family, lingers faintly like anise, and has a bit of balmy lemon flavor. It’s outstanding, in other words, and a lovely way to welcome into our kitchen the forthcoming months of blueberries.

As my dinner on Saturday and breakfast on Sunday, this pie has been, in a way, the dessert soundtrack to what’s starting to feel like the gradual diminishing of summer. There still remain several scorching weeks and we haven’t even scratched the surface of blackberries yet, but everything on the farm is being completed with a frantic eye toward autumn. We’re plucking the very last of the raspberries for our cheesecakes, making camembert every week for the fall, an aged cheese each Friday for winter, and adjusting as the goats slowly start to produce less and less milk. After a week of ardor and strange news, Arlene and I reveled in a quiet, far-away Saturday night spent at the lake. With bellies full of pie and beers in tow, we drove out to our secret diving rocks on Schoodic Lake to catch the purple sunset and a swim few leisurely laps before it got too dark to tell which way was up. It has been unexpected the way a town of 80 and farm of five manages to make me feel so grateful for moments of respite, which seem especially fleeting now as we prepare for fall. Fortunately, there are avenues for getting away, and sinking into a lake or this pie are surely two of them.

Blueberry Hyssop Pie

Inspired by Heidi Swanson's Blueberry Lemon Verbena Pie

Crust

2 sticks unsalted butter, very cold
½ cup to ¾ cup ice water
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon salt

1.  Start by cubing your butter into half-inch pieces.  Put these in the freezer while you ready the rest of the ingredients.  Measure three-fourths cup of water, add some ice cubes and set aside to chill.

2.  Mix all of your dry ingredients to a large shallow bowl. Working quickly, cut the butter into the flour mixture with your pastry blender, or by rubbing the butter into the flour with your fingers. Continue until the butter pieces range in size from oatmeal flakes to lima beans.

3.  Drizzle just 4 ounces of the ice water (minus the cubes) over the butter flour. Using a rubber spatula, cut the moisture quickly into the dough, gathering it together as you do. If the dough is too dry, add more water 1 tablespoon at a time until the dough comes together in a shaggy mess. Push the dough together, divide into two equal pieces, and wrap in plastic wrap.  Flatten into disks about five inches in diameter, and store in the fridge for at least an hour, preferably longer.

Filling

⅔ cup granulated sugar

25 fresh hyssop leaves chopped to equal ⅓ cup (scroll down for photo)
2 pounds of blueberries
⅓ cup all-purpose flour or cornstarch
¼ teaspoon fine-grain sea salt
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
zest from juiced lemon
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
1 egg plus one tablespoon water, whisked until no streaks remain
Large-grain or natural sugar for sprinkling

1.  Preheat oven to 425 degrees F. With a mortar and pestle or in a small bowl using the end of a tapered rolling pin or handle of a wooden spoon, grind the sugar and herbs together to release the hyssop’s flavor. This takes about five minutes, and you’ll see the sugar start to clump together with the oils when you’ve gone far enough. Add blueberries to a large bowl, and gently toss with sugar, flour/cornstarch, and blueberries.

2. Roll out one of your two pasty dough disks to 11 or 12 inches, and fit into a 9-inch pie plate with about one inch of overhang. Pop in the fridge while you roll out your second disk to a roughly 12-inch circle, and if there’s room, place this disk on the back of a cookie sheet and slide it into the fridge while you assemble the pie. Pile the berry mixture into your lined pie plate, carefully mounding in the center until berries start to spill down the sides. Pour lemon juice over berries, dot with butter, and top with lemon zest.

3.  Center top pastry dough over the berries. Pinch the edges of the two crusts together, roll them under the bottom crust, and pinch decoratively. Cut slits in the top for steam vents. Brush the top crust with your egg wash, sprinkle with large-grain sugar for crunch, and place pie on a foil-lined baking sheet. Pop in the oven and bake for 40 to 45 minutes, checking often after the 25-minute mark to ensure that crust isn’t burning. If it is, just place a sheet of foil over the top. Remove pie from oven when crust is deep golden brown and filling is bubbling, and allow to cool to room temperature for several hours. Leftover pie keeps well in the fridge!

The only green this blog has ever known.

Blueberry Crumb Pie

Pie is summer, right? These guys think so too, and there ain't no summer like the permanent summer that follows the conclusion of four years of steady full-time employment. Give me my summer scout badge y'all, I'm ready to beach camp, lake dive, pick at bug bites, eat tons of pie, and oh yeah, move to Maine to make goat cheese for awhile. In the throes of winding down my time in DC and gearing up for the very challenging, very hot, yet enlightening and reviving months ahead, Joey and I booked it for the beaches of North Carolina all of last week to visit his family and take advantage of my dwindling window of relaxation time. Our list of must-dos included putt-putt and the rifle range, but mostly what we accomplished was quality family time, conversations with strangers in new-to-us places, outdoor Star Wars watching, grade-A sunburns on the shore, and of course, pie.

We arrived south at exactly the right time for his family to host us and were able to spend the afternoons gathered together around the beach umbrella and the nights around the dinner table, eating tomato pie and shrimp and sneaking in more and more of his aunt's potent margaritas. We dug through old pictures of Joey's mom, heard about his cousin's dip into a school of nurse sharks, and were told tales of solo cycling, the time a baby chimp came to stay, and incidental camping above a field of F-4 Phantoms. Baking for other people's families, especially a boo's family, is typically somewhat nerve-wracking for me, but this time I felt comfortably at home, spinning stories and eating pie right along with everybody.

The day after: Agent Cooper breakfast special

The only trouble is that this pie was too early in North Carolina to be much good for the Fourth of July—the ultimate family holiday in my book—but it's right on time for you! The blueberries in North Carolina were just perfect last week, and I suspect they're excellent where you are too. This pie would look mighty fine with some sparklers stuck through the top next week too, but if blueberries aren't your thing, how about some peach? Either way, fruit pie is one of the best favorite summer privileges, especially when surrounded by storytelling family and friends. 

Blueberry Crumb Pie
Almond crumb topping adapted from Smitten Kitchen’s sour cherry crumb pie

All-Butter Flaky Pie Crust
Make one-half of this recipe--included as part of a strawberry rhubarb pie! Or make a full recipe, wrap the extra dough half in plastic, and keep in the fridge for up to a week--there are lots of recipes here that will help you put it to use.


Almond Crumb
6 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted and cooled
⅔ cup whole oats
½ cup all-purpose flour
½ cup sugar
¼ teaspoon ground cinnamon
Scant ½ teaspoon kosher salt
¾ cup unsalted whole almonds

Filling
24 ounces blueberries
½ cup granulated sugar
¼ cup cornstarch
pinch sea salt
1 teaspoon lemon zest
1 ½ tablespoons lemon juice


1. Blind bake the crust: Preheat oven to 425 degrees F. Roll out dough to a 12- to 13-inch circle, nestle it into a 9- or 9.5-inch pie plate, tuck under the overhang to make a chubby edge, and pinch decoratively. Press a sheet of foil or parchment to the bottom and sides of the dough and fill with pie weights or dried beans. Bake for 30 minutes, until crust is golden, then remove parchment and beans, and cool shell while you ready the berries. Reduce heat to 375.


2. Make the crumb topping: Melt butter and set aside to cool. In a food processor, grind oats until finely chopped. Add flour, sugar, cinnamon, and salt, and pulse once or twice to blend. Add almonds, and grind until the pieces are small but not fine. Err on the larger side if you must. Dump contents into a medium bowl, add melted butter, and mix and press gently with a fork to create crumbs.


3. Make the filling and bake: Add blueberries and zest to a large bowl. In a small bowl, mix the sugar, cornstarch, and salt. Add to berries and mix gently with your hands. Top it off with the lemon juice and another mix, and pour into baked pie shell, mounding fruit just a bit in the middle. Scoop and press crumbs evenly all over. Slide pie onto a cookie sheet lined with foil, and bake—don't forget, at 375—until crumb is dark golden and edges of filling are thick and bubbly, about 45 minutes but usually no longer than one hour. Allow to cool for a few hours, and serve! Will keep covered at room temperature for several days or in the fridge for longer.

Jumbleberry Pavlova

One of the greatest families around had an enormous backyard party at our house last week. With the parents celebrating an anniversary, a sister back from the Peace Corps in Panama, and other sisters having graduated various levels of school, the time was nigh for a big ol’ summer party, replete with its own Pinterest planning board (and cute squabbles to the tune of, “Didn’t you consult the Pinterest board?!”). The Doughertys are the first family I met in DC since they’re that of one of my oldest and finest pals around, Bobbie, and we first crossed ways four years ago when the parents lent us their minivan to do yard sale and Craigslist runs to furnish our new and very empty Petworth group house. Many pizza nights, family concerts, dinners, and parties later, and I’m not quite up to the level of being an honorary Dougherty sister, who are the very coolest of them all, but I fancy myself a sort of honorary very distant type of cousin—good enough.

Dessert at the front, veggie kabobs at the back. Reverse food mullet.

So it was over MadLibs and keg beer that all the Doughertys got together last week. The backyard was filled to the brim with beautiful handmade decorations, a giant white and yellow circus tent, and tons of flowers, pitchers of lemonade, puzzles, and of course good pals from all over. Bobbie and Richie manned the DJ booth, Matt made a giant platter of the most delicious homemade Carolina BBQ, family slaw recipes abounded, and we played a totally dizzying and nearly nauseating game of around-the-world micropong on a circular table while someone beat the stuffing out of a pinata. To top it off, Bobbie’s family commandeered Emily and I to bake for the party, and while it wasn’t quite a Tarts by Tarts last hurrah, it was really nice to be in the kitchen together working on recipes again. Emily whipped up a chocolate-peanut butter-pretzel tart (!!!), a bourbon peach pecan pie, lime tarts, and a passion fruit pie with mile-high meringue. I baked some weird but good frozen key lime bars, a five-layer salted caramel pecan cake, and this here jumbleberry pavlova, which was my favorite of the things I made. This time of year, it’s refreshing to have a recipe that doesn’t require baking or freezing the fruit, letting the height of summer berries shine on their own. Plus, all of the elements can be made ahead, which leaves you more time to spend dancing and playing Taboo with some of the best folks around while scheming permanent points of entry into their family.

Jumbleberry Pavlova

Adapted from GourmetLive

Tweaked this to make the curd much tangier, the meringue slightly larger and less sweet, and of course upped the berries. It's summer y'all: get 'em while you can. This is also gluten-free. Yahoo! 

For meringue:
1 cup superfine granulated sugar
1 tablespoon cornstarch
4 large egg whites at room temperature (3 is fine if you don't want to break a fourth egg)
3 tablespoons cold water
1 teaspoon distilled white vinegar

For filling:
½ cup granulated sugar
1 tablespoon cornstarch
⅛ teaspoon fine-grain sea salt
⅓ cup fresh lemon juice
½ stick unsalted butter
3 large egg yolks
1 tablespoon grated lemon
¼ cup whipped cream (recipe below)

For assembly:
1 cup heavy cream
5 cups mixed berries (I used blueberries, blackberries, and raspberries)

1.  Make meringue: Preheat oven to 300 degrees F with rack in middle. Trace an eight-inch circle on a sheet of parchment paper (I traced one of my removable tart pan bottoms). Turn parchment over and put on a baking sheet.

2.  Whisk together superfine sugar and cornstarch in a small bowl. Beat whites with a pinch of salt using a stand mixer at medium speed until they hold soft peaks. Add water and beat until whites again hold soft peaks.

3.  Increase speed to medium-high and beat in sugar mixture one tablespoon at a time. After all sugar has been added, beat one minute more. Add vinegar and beat at high speed until meringue is glossy and holds very stiff peaks, about five minutes.

4.  Gently spread meringue inside circle on parchment, making edge of meringue slightly higher so that lower center can hold the curd and fruit. Bake for 45 minutes, or until meringue has developed a light golden crust all around. Turn oven off and prop door open slightly with a wooden spoon. Cool meringue in oven for one hour.

5. Make lemon curd: While meringue bakes, stir together sugar, cornstarch, and salt in a two-quart heavy saucepan, then add lemon juice and butter. Whisking, bring mixture to a simmer over medium-high heat, then continue to simmer, whisking constantly, for one minute. Turn off heat. Lightly beat yolks in a small bowl and whisk a quarter-cup lemon mixture into the small bowl, then whisk yolk mixture back into saucepan. Turn heat to low and cook, whisking constantly, until curd is thickened, about two minutes (do not let boil). Transfer to a bowl, whisk in zest, press a piece of parchment to surface, and allow to chill in fridge while meringue bakes.

6.  Assemble: Using a spatula, gently remove meringue from cookie sheet and place it on your serving plate--a big one works best as this tends to serve up a bit messy. Beat heavy cream  with a pinch of granulated sugar until it just holds medium peaks, then fold one quarter-cup beaten cream into curd to lighten it. Spoon lemon curd into the dent in the meringue meringue and mound berries on top. Serve remaining whipped cream on the side.

Do ahead: Curd can be made several days ahead of serving, and meringue can be made, wrapped in plastic, and frozen, up to two days ahead. To use, just unwrap meringue layer and leave it on counter for an hour or two to bring it back to room temperature.

Me and Emily, keeping it real summery

Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Butter: Rustic Blueberry Cornmeal Tart

I don't know that I've ever given the Fourth of July its due.  Maybe it's because I gave in to the misguided undergraduate angst at my university, or confused orginality with being anti-patriotism, or maybe I just totally feared incurable dorkdom, but for the majority of my post-adolescent years (few though there are), I have celebrated Fourth of July among friends with comical irony and among family with only hesitant sincerity.  How so very trite of me!  And with so much pie and sparklers to be had?  I'm glad I finally got a clue.

Other awesome things about the Fourth of July include going to Belgrade Lakes, Maine with my family every year and generally hamming it up while also fishing, grilling, eating lobster, perusing antique stores, wearing matching plaid button-downs, getting daily homemade old-fashioned donuts from the general store, and of course, lounging on the dock with slices of pie on our bellies and beers in our hands.  Last year, my dad decapitated a two-inch long spider with a seven-inch long hunting knife, and my mom and I went canoeing on Sundays to go to the farmers' market and bring home berries and breakfast.  Granted, these things don't all occur on the Fourth, but I'm grateful for the occasion and the excuse to get together with my favorite people and eat butter as a family. 

Rustic Blueberry Cornmeal Tarts

Adapted from The Craft of Baking by Karen Demasco
Since I was so into the strawberry rhubarb tarts from a few weeks back, I tried to swap some corn flour into this crust recipe. The results were good, if slightly too tender, but I so love the flavor of corn that I had to try it. The original and my adaptation are provided below.

For the crust
5 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature
1/4 cup + 2 tablespoons granulated sugar
2 tablespoons buttermilk (or make your own:  add 1/2 teaspoon white vinegar to 2 tablespoons of milk, stir, and allow to curdle for ten minutes)
1/4 + 1/8 teaspoons vanilla extract
1/4 cup finely ground corn meal
3/4 cups all-purpose flour*
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 egg for brushing the crust

*If you'd like, use 1/4 cup corn flour and 1/2 cup all-purpose flour instead.

For the filling
3 cups fresh blueberries (or a 15 oz. package of frozen**)
1/3 cup sugar
1 tablespoon all-purpose flour, plus extra for rolling
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 to 2 tablespoons Turbinando sugar

**If using frozen berries, mix the berries, sugar, flour, and lemon juice in a bowl and allow to come to room temperature. This will help improve the flavors and allow the juices to thicken. Also add a second tablespoon of flour since frozen berries tend to have more juice than fresh.

1.  In a large bowl, rub the butter and sugar between your fingers until it's evenly blended. Or, as Demasco suggests, use a KitchenAid with the paddle attachment for 30 seconds.  Add the buttermilk and vanilla, scraping down sides and mixing with a rubber spatula.

2.  In a small bowl, whisk corn meal, all-purpose flour, corn flour (if you're using it), and salt. Add the flour mixture to the butter mixture, blending with your rubber spatula until well combined. Try not to over-stir. Flatten dough into a disk, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate for at least an hour, or overnight.

3.  On a lightly flour sheet of parchment paper, roll chilled dough out into an 11-inch circle. Slice parchment with dough onto a cookie sheet and let rechill in the refrigerator for at least five minutes while you prepare the filling.

4.  Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. In a medium bowl, toss berries, sugar, flour and lemon juice. Remove rechilled dough from fridge and mound berries in the center, leaving a four-inch border all the way around. Gently fold the edges of the dough up and over toward the berries, pleating for an even look, or folding casually for a rustic look. Work quickly, especially if your kitchen is hot, lest the crust become hard to work with. Slide tray back into the fridge for 20 minutes.

5. Whip the egg in a bowl until whites are fully incorporated. Once tart has chilled, brush the crust with the egg wash and then sprinkle Turbinando sugar over the crusts (and filling too if you wish). Bake for 40 minutes in the center of the oven, rotating once halfway through. Tart crust will be golden brown when finished baking. Remove to a cooling rack and serve warm or at room temperature with whipped cream, ice cream, or creme fraiche. Since corn is fragile, this tart is best eaten the same day.

Blueberry Buttermilk Pancakes

Maybe pancakes aren't a baked good, but in the midst of the snowiest winter the District has witnessed since 1898, I'm inclined to believe that almost anything with flour (rapidly depleting as we head into the seventh day of snowy annihilation) counts as a baked good. Hamburger buns? Yes. Pizza crust? Close enough. Pancakes? Sure thing! And if you're still not feelin' it, well, these pancakes get you to exercise the single most important baking preparation skill of all time, which is whipping eggs, a skill my father showed me when I was a wee thing who wanted to eat belgian waffles for every breakfast.  My mom taught me to cook, but I have to give heaps of credit to my pops too since the alchemy of egg-whipping is what attracted me to manipulating food through baking. 

Blueberry Buttermilk Pancakes
Adapted from Martha Stewart's The Original Classics

If you don't have buttermilk or don't have three cups worth, just make your own by mixing one tablespoon of distilled white vinegar with one cup of milk (for every one cup of buttermilk) and setting it aside for ten minutes to curdle.  Also, if you don't feel like whipping your egg whites, just beat the eggs together and whisk them in all at once.  The results will still be tasty!

2 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
3 tablespoons sugar
2 large egg yolks, lightly beaten
Whites from two large eggs, beaten until soft peaks have formed
3 cups buttermilk
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted, plus 1 extra tablespoon melted for brushing the pan between pancakes
About one cup fresh or frozen blueberries or raspberries, or one to two thinly sliced bananas, or a half-cup of semi-sweet chocolate chips

1. Preheat oven to 175 degrees Fahrenheit, this is for keeping the pancakes warm while you continue cooking them.

2.  Place cast iron or regular frying pan on medium heat.  Whisk all dry ingredients in a large bowl.  Add the buttermilk, lightly beaten egg yolks, and melted butter, and whisk just until combined.  You want batter that's pretty lumpy, so don't over mix.

3.  In a clean, glass measuring cup or bowl, beat egg whites on medium until foamy, about one minute. Increase the speed to medium-high and beat for about two minutes more, or until soft peaks have formed.  You'll know that you have soft peaks when you turn your mixer off, remove it from the egg whites, and the little peaks left from the beater marks maintain their shape, but curl over on top.  Using a rubber spatula, plop egg whites on to batter, and gently fold in (do not stir!) until egg whites are distributed.  Batter should still be lumpy.

4.  Test the heat of your pan by sprinkling some water droplets on it.  If the sizzle and shake, you're good to go.  Brush the pan with a thin layer of butter, and pour out your pancake batter using a half-cup measurer.  In an amount to your liking, add your blueberries to the pancakes' up-sides.  Let cook until golden brown, from two to three minutes, then flip and let cook for a minute more.  Using an oven-safe plate, slide your pancakes into the oven to keep warm.

5.  Repeat with remaining batter, and serve warm with toppings of your choice.  We went with powdered sugar and agave nectar, but last time did bananas, pecans, and maple syrup.  Enjoy!