Cobblers, pies and crisps

When I was a kid growing up in LA, my Granny would make peach cobblers all summer long. She had a peach tree, which supplied her with the ingredients for her cobblers (she also had a lemon tree, which supplied one ingredient of her special "lemonade" - vodka with lemon and ice - but that's a story for another day). I've never really understood why Granny called her cobbler a cobbler - she made it with pie crust instead of biscuit dough - but it was delicious, whatever we called it.

Now that peach season is in full swing, I'm making peach pies and jam and crisps. The following recipe makes a great pie filling, but if you're not in the mood to roll out a dough, top it off with some brown sugar, butter and oatmeal for a crisp. The crisp is great for breakfast (hey - dessert for breakfast is no worse than eating a Pop Tart or a sugary cereal. Plus, this has fruit in it). I'm just including recipes for pies and crisps; I need to find my Granny's biscuit recipe (and try it out a couple of times) before I share that recipe here.

Peach pie/cobbler/crisp filling: 5 cups ripe yellow peaches (around 3-4 lbs of peaches), pitted and peeled
1/2 cup sugar (more if the peaches are tart)
2 tsp lemon juice
1 tbsp flour (more if the peaches are really juicy)
1/4 tsp cinnamon
1/8 tsp nutmeg

Mix all ingredients together. Taste a slice of peach and adjust sugar and spice levels to taste.


Pie crust recipe: 3 cups flour, sifted twice
1 tsp salt
1 cup shortening, at room temperature (Yes, that's right - shortening. Granny grew up in Texas during the Depression. There was no butter. If the thought of shortening turns you off, you can substitute butter. A butter dough will be way harder to work with and it might not be as flaky and light.)
1/3 cup water

Heat oven to 400F.

Mix flour and salt together. Mix in shortening - you will need to work it with your hands until it's crumbly. Add in water, 1 tablespoon at a time.

Lightly coat a smooth surface with flour. Divide the dough into two balls and roll out each into 9" rounds. The key when making a good dough is to use as little flour as possible while retaining elasticity. Line a 9" pie pan with one round of dough, add filling and a couple of tablespoons of butter (optional), then top with the pie with the remaining dough. Pinch the edges. Bake for 20 minutes, or until the edges are lightly brown.


Crisp topping recipe: 1-1/2 cup flour
1-1/2 cup uncooked oats
1 cup brown sugar
Pinch of cinnamon (optional)
1 stick butter, cut into pieces, at room temperature

Heat oven to 400F.

Mix first four ingredients together. Add butter and mix until the mixture is moist. Pour prepared peaches into an 8" square dish. Cover with crisp topping. Bake for 20-30 minutes, or until topping is lightly brown.

Serve any with ice cream (particularly good with breakfast). If you're feeling frisky, pour yourself one of Granny's special lemonades. Enjoy!

Tee hee

Photos of my studio showed up on Apartment Therapy today. So excited!

In other news, I can't stop listening to this song.

Okay, back to sewing a zillion bags for Renegade.

Clothing rehab

Not having a job means not buying new clothes. And while not exactly a shopaholic, I do like a little variety every once in a while. Wearing the same jeans and blouses every day had gotten really boring, and most of my work clothes are pretty dresses and skirts that (1) require expensive dry cleaning, and (2) would just get covered in dog fur if worn around the house. A garment refurb was in order.


Remember this dress? I hadn't worn it much so decided to chop off the bottom and make it into a tunic. Et voila - I have an almost-new top that is cute, machine-washable and not yet covered in dog fur. In celebration of Bastille Day, I'm wearing it with capri pants and red flats. I shall hop on my bike and pretend I'm 1960s Brigitte Bardot pedaling to a rendez-vous somewhere in the south of France.

And I haven't forgotten about my promise to post a weekly recipe. I've made a couple of peach cobblers - needed to get the recipe just right - and have taken a few photos. First, I must have a slice for breakfast.

Happy Jour de la Bastille!

Cameo buttons

I have a collection of cameos, given to me by my Lola (Filipina grandma), and I wear them all the time. The silver of my ring is so dented from being banged around (I'm hardly the most graceful lady).

But my mom kept the brooches for herself, so I've made a low-rent version. Pins! I like them so much that I'm going to make more for my etsy shop and for Renegade.

I'm off to enjoy my weekend now. Enjoy yours, too!

(The brown pin - of course - is my profile on a good hair day)

UPDATE: pins available here.

Look what I found!

Yeah, sorry. I found more treasure on the street this morning. I picked up this little vase in front of a house that's on our regular, morning walk. I've found many good things in this house's junk box - the residents regularly put their discards on the sidewalk for passersby. I also found this copper and porcelain warming dish a year ago:


Sure, I could tell you the house's location, but then I'd have to kill you.

Local soul

It all started, as things so often do in my life, with a fried chicken dinner. I was wooing a guy, who happened to be the general manager of a local, fancy restaurant, with a dinner of fried chicken, mac n cheese and greens sauteed in bacon fat. He leaned back in his chair, sighed, and said, "You know, if you wanted to start a restaurant selling just this meal, I know some investors who'd back you."

I'd never had much of a desire to own a restaurant - my parents had owned one when I was a toddler and it had failed (Reseda in the 70s just wasn't ready for a pizza-Filipino food joint) - and I wasn't planning on starting one then, but something stuck with me. My friends will make their own pasta, roast a whole chicken, try out foraged greens bought on the underground food market, but they won't attempt to fry a chicken or cook a pot of collards. There's something mystifying to them about soul food. Southern cooking to them is somehow more exotic than a truffle omelet.

And yet soul food is, to me, one of the most nourishing, accessible cuisines out there. It's all about using what's available to you at that moment. And, more than anything, it's about community. I can easily cook fried chicken for two, but it tastes best when shared with a group of friends.

So, since I don't usually have many occasionas to cook for a lot of people, I've decided to prepare a few soul food dishes and share recipes, photos, and tips with you. Once a week, I'll have a new dish for you. Of course, now that I've written this, I realize I've made a commitment to actually do it. I think I'll make something simple this week - perhaps shrimp and grits with baby squash? Or candied carrots? Hmm (and yum)... decisions, decisions. I promise to have made up my mind by Sunday!

Cleanliness is next to momliness

My mom and I had made it two days without her hurling one of her zingers at me. A zinger is the kind of offhand, but pointed, comment that moms are especially good at flinging at their adult daughters. On Day Two, while we were preparing dinner, Mom turned to me and said "Do you know what you need?"

"Oh, god," I thought. "Is she going to tell me that I need a job? A husband? A half slip?"

She paused. "You need some SOS pads. Your pots are black. If you scrubbed them just once a month, they'd look so much better."

That's it? All she thinks is missing from my life is a cupboard of shiny pots? Wow. For once, I readily agreed with her.

I've been a bit stressed lately - about my job search, about the upcoming Renegade show, about my dwindling savings. And when I'm stressed, I do something my mom always did: I clean. I reorganized my storage room. I scrubbed my kitchen cupboards. I repotted some cacti. And, yes, I bought a box of SOS pads and scoured my pots (which look almost as good as they did ten years ago; granted, I've had these pots for 15 years). I unleashed my inner Mom (who is, not coincidentally, a Virgo) and cleaned my apartment until it shined.

I feel so much better now. Sometimes a little bit of order and cleanliness are called for, especially when other things seem beyond my control.

But i do draw the line at snaking my shower drain. A girl's got to have some boundaries.