Though the last few months have been a meteorological roller coaster here in Colorado, the temperatures that now soar up near or above 90 every day indicate that summer has finally arrived in full. The air conditioner in our apartment can hardly keep up with the summer sun, blazing through our western-facing windows on its long descent toward the mountains. Fortunately, our freezer faces no such challenge and can house within it a treasure trove of icy treats perfect for combating the summer heat. And what better way to welcome the arrival of the season than with a dessert that features one of its most celebrated fruits?

Ahhh, rhubarb. Such pretty stalks. Such poisonous leaves. (Seriously, don’t eat the leaves.) And such a short growing season that it’s best to indulge heavily when it finally appears. I can hardly prevent myself from making into my favorite Rhubarb Crisp, but in an effort to broaden my horizons, I dug into a very, very vintage cookbook to find some new ideas. To my delight, I discovered marlow, a dessert that is now so out of the common psyche that when I poked around to learn more, I couldn’t even find it on Wikipedia.

From what I’ve pieced together, marlow is a marshmallow-based dessert that can either be frozen to mimic ice cream or chilled to mimic mousse. It can feature a variety of flavors as the marshmallow, sugar, and heavy cream act as a clean canvas onto which you can paint rhubarb, cherries, chocolate, butterscotch, or anything else you want to eat for dessert. After the fruit (in this case) is cooked down with sugar, the marshmallows and whipped cream are mixed in to create a frothy, fluffy mixture ready for freezing.

If you fancy fruity ice cream but don’t want the hassle of making it yourself, I highly recommend trying this instead. The method is incredibly straightforward and creates a dessert so reminiscent of ice cream you’ll hardly realize it’s not. Plus look how trendy you’ll be if you’re on the front end of bringing back marlow!

Rhubarb Marlow
Adapted from Meta Given’s Modern Encyclopedia of Cooking

1 pound rhubarb, diced (about 3 cups)
1 T water
3/4 c granulated sugar
1/4 tsp salt
4 oz mini marshmallows
1 c heavy whipping cream
1 T lemon juice

Place bread pan or other medium-sized dish in the freezer to chill. Make sure cream stays in the fridge until it is ready for whipping.

Place rhubarb and water in a medium sauce pan over medium heat. Cook, stirring often, until juices begin to release, about 5 minutes. Add sugar and stir until sugar has dissolved. Continue cooking until rhubarb is tender but not broken down, about 10 minutes. Remove from heat and add salt and marshmallows. Mix thoroughly until marshmallows have completely melted. Pour the mixture into another bowl and place in the fridge to chill until it is not warm to the touch.

Once the rhubarb mixture has cooled, combine heavy cream and lemon juice and beat until stiff peaks form. Fold whipped cream into the rhubarb mixture, then turn it into the chilled bread pan. Freeze for 4-6 hours or until it is the consistency of fluffy ice cream.

Ever since I developed my recipe for fajita seasoning, I’ve been pretty lazy on the taco recipe front. The fajita seasoning is sooo versatile: virtually any taco, fajita, quesadilla, etc. can be fully-flavored with it. Plus, it’s quick to make with spices that I always have on hand. I go through batches of it at a fairly rapid clip.

But in the throes of my recent love affair with sweet cherries, I stumbled across this recipe. Pork, rubbed with a paste of garlic, lime, and ground chipotle and topped with charred onions, peppers, queso fresco, and a bright, cherry salsa studded with cilantro and lime Um, YES.

These tacos are delightfully flavorful. The smoky chipotle plays nicely with the bright, sweet, fruity cherries and limes. And while I typically look to chicken or steak for my tacos, the pork is really the best canvas here. The rub and the salsa can be made well in advance, but they certainly don’t have to. This is definitely a weeknight-worthy operation.

This batch makes enough filling for about 8 tacos, but it can easily be changed to feed a crowd. Plus, if you store the different toppings separately, this makes INCREDIBLE leftovers.

So if you, like me, have not yet released your grip on summer cherries, put these tacos on your to do list for the week.

Pork Tacos with Cherry-Lime Salsa
Adapted from Eating Well

Makes about 8 tacos

For the Pork
2 cloves garlic
1 tsp salt
1 tsp ground chipotle pepper
zest of two limes
4 tsp fresh lime juice
1 lb pork tenderloin (I used strips for mine, but that’s just what I had on hand)

Mince garlic. Combine garlic and salt in a bowl and press with a spoon (or use a mortar and pestle) until it forms a paste. Add chipotle, lime zest, and lime juice and mix well. Rub paste all over pork. Refrigerate until other ingredients are prepared.

For the Salsa
1 c pitted & chopped fresh sweet cherries (use dark red if you can for the drama!)
1/4 c finely chopped cilantro
4 tsp fresh lime juice
1/4 tsp salt
1/4 tsp ground chipotle pepper

Combine all ingredients in a small dish and set aside. You’ll add some onion once you’ve charred it, so keep the salsa close by.

Assembly
3 T canola oil, divided
1 medium white or yellow onion, sliced in half-moons
1 green bell pepper, seeded and sliced into strips
2-3 cranks freshly ground black pepper
pinch of course salt
3/4 c crumbled queso fresco
8 taco-sized flour or white-corn tortillas

Heat two medium-sized skillets over medium and add 1 1/2 T of oil to each one. In one pan, add the onions, peppers, pepper, and salt. Toss frequently until onions and peppers are slightly charred and have softened slightly, about 10 minutes. Meanwhile, add the seasoned pork to the other pan. Cook until pork reaches a 145°F internal temperature and all sides are golden-brown.

Remove 6-7 slices of onion and chop finely. Add these to the cherry salsa.

To warm tortillas, place in the oven at 170°F on a cookie sheet that has another cookie sheet as a lid for 5-10 minutes. The lid will prevent the tortillas from becoming crispy. Or, place them in a stack on a plate with another plate as a lid and microwave for 30 seconds.

Add a bit of pork, peppers and onions, salsa, and queso fresco to each tortilla.

One of the most amazing but frustrating things about moving all the time is that I am constantly re-learning local produce. While most of the produce itself has remained the same from city to city and state to state, the timing has shifted a month or two or even three in different climates. But tree fruit. Tree fruit has been the one genre of produce that has just been completely unpredictable as I’ve moved from place to place. DC’s tree fruit scene was insanely awesome. Durham, on the other hand, not so much (though GOD I miss the blueberries.) Columbus had great apples and decent peaches, but not really any cherries or plums to speak of.

Moving back to Colorado, I knew I would return to a land of great, high-altitude peaches from Palisade and other farming communities on the Western Slope. But I did not expect the cherries.

Oh em gee the cherries!

Colorado has had rather a bumper crop this  year, and I’m obsessed. For weeks now, I’ve been eating them faster than I can buy them. In fact I COMPLETELY missed strawberry season because I was so distracted by these round little rubies. Which, actually, is fine with me because the cherry is my new number one.

And not just for dessert. I’ve been playing around with this savory cherry jam and I’m kind of really into it. It’s a super-quick roasted refrigerator jam that, aside from pitting a pound of cherries, is pretty hands off. Nice and smoky with a smoked paprika, it’s very, very tasty.

This jam is crazy good on pork chops. I smeared some on crackers with cream cheese while I was stress-eating at work and it was utterly delightful. And my favorite use so far was as a condiment to elevate what was a pretty basic sandwich.

Try it! Love it! Buy a cherry pitter to make even more of it!

Savory Cherry Jam
Adapted from Eating Well

Note: I have not tested the pH of this jam to determine if it is safe for water-bath canning. Stick this is as a fridge jam for now.

1 lb (about 2 cups) sweet cherries, pitted and halved
juice from 1/2 a naval orange (about 1/4 c)
1/2 T fresh thyme (or 1/4 tsp dried)
1/2 tsp smoked paprika
1/4 tsp kosher salt
3-4 cranks freshly ground black pepper

Preheat oven to 450°F. Combine all ingredients in a small baking dish. Roast for 35-40 minutes, stirring several times, until cherries are softened and juices have thickened.

Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator.

Are we far enough into January that I can talk about dessert?

I’d really like to. I know, a lot of you who are still in that “never eating dessert again” phase of January. I can tell we’re still in the window of active New Years resolutions: the gym is still full of people (I just need one elliptical, folks) and social media is crowded with photos of green smoothies and raw vegetables.

But when you’re ready to return to the light, I urge you to make these little bars.

Rather like lemon bars in their consistency, these bars feature a crisp shortbread crust topped with a luscious, citrus-y custard. But instead of lemon juice, these bars are brought to life by the vibrant, impossibly pink juice of blood oranges. 

Blood oranges reach their peak in the dead of winter on this continent and, in my opinion, are the most welcome food to see in January. Bright orange peels that blush red encase the most amazing colors of pulp, ranging from a pale pink to deep purple. They’re just the prettiest.

You’ll be tempted to drink the juice straight. And at another time, you should definitely do that because it’s frightfully good. But for now, go ahead and just mix it in with the custard and bake it. It won’t stay bright pink, but the finished product is still a delightfully bright shade of orange.

With a sprinkle of powdered sugar, you’ll have a dessert that brightens up your winter. It’s totally worth an extra hour at the gym. Happy New Year, everyone!

Blood Orange Bars
Adapted from Yossy Arefi

Makes 16 two-inch bars

For the Crust
1/2 c unsalted butter, melted
1/4 c granulated sugar
3/4 tsp vanilla
1/4 tsp salt
1 c all-purpose flour

For the Topping
3/4 c granulated sugar
3 T all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp sea salt
3 eggs
zest of two blood oranges (about 1 1/2 tablespoons)
1/2-3/4 c blood orange juice
powdered sugar for dusting

Preheat oven to 350°F. Line an 8″x8″ square baking dish with parchment or foil with a lip hanging over the edge and set aside.

Thoroughly combine the melted butter, sugar, vanilla, and salt in a small bowl. Add the flour and mix just until combined. Press the mixture into the bottom of the lined baking dish. Bake for about 25 minutes until the crust is golden-brown. While the crust bakes, prepare the topping.

Thoroughly wash and dry the blood oranges. Zest two blood orange and set aside for the recipe. If you like orange zest in other things, zest the remaining blood oranges and freeze the zest in a zippered baggie for future use. Juice the oranges and strain into a measuring cup or small bowl.

In a medium bowl, stir together the sugar, flour, and salt. Whisk in the eggs, followed by the orange zest and orange juice.

When the crust is done, turn the oven down to 300°F. Slide out the oven rack with the crust, pour the topping straight onto the hot crust, and slide the rack back into the oven. Bake until the topping is set and does not jiggle in the center, 30-40 minutes. Remove the pan from the oven and allow to cool on a rack until the bars have cooled completely.

Once the bars are completely cool, lift them from the pan using the parchment or foil edges and place on a cutting board. Cut the bars to the desired size. Dust with powdered sugar immediately before serving.

The bars can be stored in an airtight container for up to a week in the refrigerator. Add more powdered sugar as needed for serving the leftovers.

I write to you now from a new home! In mid-July, Brad and I packed up our lovely Ohio apartment, left our jobs, and drove nearly 1300 miles across the continent to Colorado. It’s a domestic destination I’ve had for a long, long time: having spent eleven years away, I’m finally living back in the land of dry air, big skies, and seemingly endless sunshine. And our new apartment, full of windows and light, has the view to prove it.

It’s so great to be back!

And spectacular vistas aren’t the only benefit Colorado has to offer. It’s peach season here, and Palisade, Colorado is famous for growing wonderful peaches. They’re so perfectly delightful raw — juicy and cool and bursting with flavor — that I can rarely justify breaking them down for cooking. But I’ve been on a fruit crisp kick in recent months, so I thought I’d give one a try.

Originally, this recipe was designed for halved peaches, with their skins, and with a buttery almond mixture smushed across the face of each before baking. The peaches form their own little baking dishes this way, and there’s no hassle of peeling or slicing. However, I found the peach skin to be someone irritating, so I gave it a shot in a more traditional slices-of-fruit-buried-by-crumbly-goodness format. I definitely prefer the latter.

Even with the slicing, this recipe is outrageously easy. Almonds, sugars, oats, spices, and butter are whirled for a bit in a food processor. Peaches are blanched (so the skins slip right off) and sliced. Crumble is crumbled. Then, 45 minutes in the oven while you do other things.

The result is a layer of warm peaches that hold their shape topped with a slightly caramelized, slightly crispy almond crumble that compliments the fruit below perfectly. This particular recipe is for a small batch (I only had 5 peaches on hand), but it could easily be doubled or tripled if your baking for a crowd.

Served warm with a dollop of vanilla ice cream, you’ll ache for summer to last all year long. Or at least peach season, I suppose.

Peaches with Almond Crisp
Adapted from Smitten Kitchen

5 ripe peaches
1/2 c raw almonds
2 T white sugar
2 T dark brown sugar, packed
1/4 c rolled oats
1/8 tsp cinnamon
1/8 tsp sea salt
3 T unsalted butter, cubed and cold

Preheat oven to 350°F. Grease an 8″x8″ baking dish and set aside. Blanch peaches by dipping them in boiling water for 30 seconds or so and then submerging them in ice water. Peel the skins and slice. Spread the peaches evenly in the baking dish and set aside.

Pulse almonds and white sugar in a food processor until just a few small pebbles remain. Add brown sugar, oats, cinnamon, and sea salt and pulse a time or two more. Add butter and pulse until mixture forms buttery clumps. Loosely sprinkle the almond mixture over the peaches.

Bake for 45 minutes. Serve warm with a dollop of vanilla ice cream or lightly-sweetened whipped cream.

It only took a few minutes of consulting my favorite cookbooks and cookblogs to see the overwhelming consensus: lemon curd seemed to be square one for entry into the lemon-y baking world.

And to be honest, I had NO idea what lemon curd was. I couldn’t recall tasting it, though in hindsight I now realize that almost every lemon-y dessert I’d had probably used lemon curd as a base. Lemon curd, it turns out, is the happy marriage of lemons, sugar, butter, and eggs. Somewhere between the consistency of a jam and a pudding, curd can be made with any combination of citrus, though lemon seems to be the most popular.

Like most custards, it starts with eggs. This recipe only requires the yolks, but I urge you to re-purpose the whites elsewhere: fluffy omelettes, meringue, angel food cake, no sense in letting a good batch of egg whites go to waste.

Then the lemons: while lemon juice contributes quite a bit of bulk to the curd, the zest is the essential ingredient that takes this curd to a level of insane lemon happiness. I used a lot, a lot, of zest, and I’m so glad I did. It’s truly a magical addition.

To transform this mixture from a yellow slurry into a smooth and elegant topping, it cooks lightly over a bain marie. This can be easily accomplished with any heat-proof bowl and a small pot with a bit of simmering water.

After 10 or 15 minutes, the thin liquid will begin to thicken. My curd was fated to become a cake filling, so I let it thicken quite a lot, but depending on your needs it can be equally delightful a bit thinner. I waited until mine barely dripped off the spoon, and it continued to thicken in the fridge as it cooled.

This recipe makes about a pint of lemon curd, or about two cups. When you’re ready to cool the curd, make sure you press a sheet of plastic wrap over the top so that it doesn’t form a skin or crust as it cools.

Once the curd has cooled and thickened up in the fridge, it can be deliciously used in so many ways. Lemon curd also freezes rather well, so you don’t have to commit to using it all up in one batch. It’s a great way to preserve the bright, fresh spirit of lemons for future use in lemon-filled pastries, lemon cookies, lemon-y whipped cream, lemon-topped-toast…

Or, as a filling for cake. Just a thought. Recipe coming soon, promise!

Lemon Curd
Adapted from Sweetapolita and Alton Brown

Makes about 1 pint

juice and zest of 4 lemons
2 whole eggs
4 egg yolks
1 c granulated sugar
5 T unsalted butter, cut into small, evenly-sized cubes and chilled

Wash all lemons very well and pat dry. Remove zest using a Microplane or grater over a piece of waxed paper (don’t include the white rind, it’s quite bitter!) and set aside.

Add an inch of water to a small pot. Place a medium-sized stainless steel or glass bowl over the pot and ensure that the water won’t touch the bottom. Remove the bowl and heat the pot over medium while you juice the citrus.

Cut each lemon in half and juice, either by squeezing until all juice is removed or using a citrus reamer. Strain out pulp and seeds.

Whisk together eggs, egg yolks, sugar, and lemon juice in the bowl you fit over the pot earlier. Once the water in the pot is simmering, reduce heat to medium-low and place the bowl of egg mixture over the pot. Add the cubes of butter and stir constantly with a wooden spoon until butter is melted and curd has thickened. It is thick enough when it clings to the wooden spoon instead of dripping right off (it will still be liquid, though).

Remove from heat and strain through a mesh strainer into another bowl. Stir in the zest and pour curd into a pint jar. Place a piece of plastic wrap directly on the surface to prevent a skin from forming and refrigerate for several hours or overnight.

And even I have this conflict. The desire both for thick, warm soups that shut out the cold of January but also for light, fresh meals that taste like the spring and summer to come.

Plus, Santa brought me an immersion blender for Christmas, and what better way to break it in than by crushing the heck out of some frozen raspberries?

This is a little smoothie. I can never get through a full-size smoothie, so this recipe is for about a half-pint. You can easily double it if you are full-size smoothie drinker.

I like using frozen fruit in smoothies rather than fresh fruit and ice. It makes for a nice, thick smoothie that doesn’t dilute and is bursting with fruity flavor.

The sweetness of the raspberries is complimented nicely by the acidic orange juice and the tart punch of the lime sherbet. It’s thick and filling but still light and fresh.

And it perfectly appeases one half of my confused January appetite.

Raspberry Orange Smoothie

1/2 c orange juice
1/4 c plain yogurt
1/4 c lime sherbet
1/2 c frozen raspberries

Combine all ingredients, starting with the orange juice, in a blender or the cup of an immersion blender. Blend until smoothe. Serve immediately.

If fall is pumpkin-everything season, then early winter is certainly the moment for the tart, gem-like cranberry to rise to prominence. I find myself recently obsessed with the immense versatility of cranberries, but this simple recipe is, by far, the best way I’ve found yet to feature these beautiful little berries.

Cranberries are, on their own, incredibly tart, and I rarely see them served raw and unaltered. But they are also so fashionable in that state, aren’t they It’s sort of a shame that most of us consume the majority of our cranberries either liquified in fruit juice cocktails or gel-ified in classic, ruby-red sauce served aside turkey and cornbread stuffing at Thanksgiving.

This method gives the cranberries a nice level of sweetness to cut the sour but lets the berries glisten as a centerpiece of your holiday party spread. And while the berries require several hours of soaking in the fridge, these are incredibly easy to make. All you need is a bag of cranberries, sugar, and water.

The first step is to make a simple syrup, or, a mixture of sugar and water in equal parts. Once the sugar dissolves and the syrup comes just to boiling, the cranberries get a nice, long soak. I like to make the mixture the night before I need the berries and allow them to sit in the fridge overnight, but you can also start the morning of your festivities if you’re short on time.

After several hours of absorbing simple syrup, the berries are certainly sweeter, but still quite sticky. That stickiness is perfect for the final step: giving these pretty little rubies a glistening, sparkly coat of sugar!

I used a cookie sheet, shaken back and forth on the surface of a table, as a vehicle for covering the berries evenly with sugar. I attempted to roll them with a fork on my first batch, but the cookie sheet works much better. And a little sugar goes a long way: I used about 1/2 cup to give each and every berry its shiny coat.

And how shall we use them OH. LET ME COUNT THE WAYS. They would make an elegant topping to cheesecake. They make a great garnish for cocktails. I tossed a handful in a bowl of cranberry lemonade punch. But mostly, we ate them straight up, one by one, right out of the bowl. Sweet, tart, perfectly festive finger-food.

Let the season of the cranberry begin!

Sparkling Cranberries
Adapted from Tokyo Terrace

1 bag cranberries (picked through, removing any berried with soft spots)
1 c granulated sugar
1 c water
1/2 to 3/4 c additional granulated sugar

Wash cranberries thoroughly and drain in a colander. Combine 1 c sugar & water in a medium pot over medium-high heat. Stir until sugar dissolves and heat just until mixture comes to a boil. Remove the simple syrup from the heat and allow to cool for 5-10 minutes.

Pour cranberries into a glass or metal dish, preferably with a lid. Pour the simple syrup over the cranberries. Place the lid on the bowl or cover with aluminum foil and place in the refrigerator. Chill berries in the simple syrup overnight or for at least 8 hours.

After berries have chilled, pour into a colander and drain for about 10 minutes. Dump berries onto a medium cookie sheet. Sprinkle a bit of the 1/2 of sugar over the berries. Slide the cookie sheet back and forth over the surface of a table or counter so that the berries roll around in the sugar. Continue adding sugar a bit at a time to cover berries evenly and thoroughly. Allow berries to rest for 1-2 hours on the counter to allow the simple syrup to begin forming a hard shell. Sprinkle with additional sugar to cover any final sticky spots.

Serve as is, as a cocktail garnish, as a topping for cheesecake, or in any other way you can imagine. Keep refrigerated when not serving.

ATTENTION STORES EVERYWHERE:

I love Christmas, I really do. But I’m not ready for it. Not for candy canes and glittery pine cones and red ribbons on the ends of the aisle. I’m not ready for the ghost and goblin decor to be heaped haphazardly on a clearance rack by the checkout while pine boughs and Santa hats flood in from the back room. It’s Halloween this week, thank you very much, it’s Thanksgiving in a month, and there are several beautiful weeks of autumn between now and then.

And for you big-budget stores, I’m really not ready for jingle bells and dancing elves to adorn your circulars & commercials.

So in defiance of the ever-earlier Christmas season, I offer these treats that scream “Halloween!” loudly enough to drown out the dancing elves, at least for the next few days.

I speak, of course, of caramel apples. It’s no wonder this treat is a classic: a tart, crisp apple enrobed in a sheen of chewy honey caramel is one of the greatest joys of fall. These apples are Pink Ladies, my favorite variety, and they hail from this year’s annual apple-picking trip, which has become a cornerstone of every fall for me (my little blog is named after it!)

Photo from Monica B.

The goal is to acquire enough fruit to span the gap between the last blackberries of summer and the first strawberries of spring, so I pick as many as I can. This year, the limit was half a bushel, so I filled my basket to the brim. But I’m willing to use a few of these precious fruits for a batch of caramel apples.

And what to dress them with I enjoy caramels of all sorts,  but I really love honey caramel. With only cream, sea salt, and honey, it’s a great way to celebrate local ingredients beyond even the apples.

And it’s super easy! With a cheap candy thermometer (available at any home goods store), a medium-sized pot, and a wooden spoon, you can make this caramel in less than 30 minutes.

Then the apples just get a quick bath in the hot caramel, and you’re done! A classic, delicious, show-stopping Halloween dessert.

Going to a Halloween party this weekend Show up with a tray full of these! But save one for yourself. The others will disappear faster than those fall decorations on the clearance rack.

Happy Halloween weekend!

Honey Caramel Apples
Adapted from 101 Cookbooks

8 small apples, washed, dried, and cold
8 lollipop sticks
1 1/2 c heavy cream
1 1/2 tsp sea salt
1 1/2 c honey

Line a medium cookie sheet with parchment paper. Twist off the stems from each apple and all it to sit naturally. Insert a lollipop stick into the apple where the stem was, but make sure the stick is vertical. It may not follow the same track as the stem, but should stay vertical when the apple sits naturally. Set apples aside. Fill a large bowl half full with cold water and set near the apples. Make sure you also have a trivet or pot holder adjacent to the bowl and the apples for the pot of caramel when it’s time to coat the apples.

In a heavy medium pot, stir together cream and sea salt. Heat over medium until just before simmering, stirring occasionally. Stir in the honey with a wooden spoon and place a candy thermometer onto the pot to track the temperature. Increase heat to medium-high, stirring constantly. Mixture will come to a boil and will cook for 10-15 minutes. Once the mixture reaches hard ball stage or 260°F, remove the thermometer and remove the pot from the heat. Continuing to stir, dip the base of the pot into the cold water, taking care to ensure that no water gets into the pot. Stir until the caramel is smooth and beginning to thicken. Place pot on the trivet and tilt so the caramel pools on one side.

Spin each apple on its side in the pooled caramel until it is covered to your liking. If the caramel is sliding off the apple or is thinning too much, let it cool for a few more seconds. You may also need to blot the bottom of the apple on the bottom of the pot above the caramel pool to allow extra caramel to come off. Place each apple on the parchment-lined baking sheet.

You’ll need to work quickly to prevent the caramel from becoming too cool. If the caramel becomes difficult to work with, place it back on the stove for a few seconds to heat it back up.

Once all apples are coated with caramel, allow them to cool for 1-2 hours until set, then store in the refrigerator. Remove from the fridge 30 minutes before serving.

Enjoy!

July and August in my childhood meant lots of raspberries. Produce in general, really: my grandparents planted each year a massive garden, and I strongly correlate the start of the school year with boxes of produce on the floor next to the fridge, pan fried okra at dinner almost daily, and raspberries.

Though I love most berries, the raspberry is by far my favorite. Sure, strawberries get a lot of credit as the first fruit of the spring, blueberries sustain me, strong and steady, through the heat of the summer, and blackberries dress up desserts with a splash of deep, fruity decadence. But raspberries, so fragile when picked ripe yet bursting with sweet and tart flavor, will never fade for me.

In Durham, raspberries don’t seem to be a popular cultivar. I’m not sure if it’s the climate or what, but I have only ever seen one, maybe two vendors at the farmers market here with these tiny red berries, and when they do it’s usually just a few pints at a time. So each week of the brief raspberry season in this city, I try to take full advantage. This week, I paired them up with a few luscious peaches for some hand pies!

And we can’t have hand pies without pie crust, of course. Until recently, I was very intimidated by pie crusts. But no more! With a recipe I originally adapted from Smitten Kitchen when taking my first stab at a full-blown pie, I now feel ready to take on any pie project that comes my way!

Before I learned to make this crust, I had almost convinced myself to get rid of these wide, low mixing bowls. Brad gave me a snazzy clear glass set for Christmas that doesn’t splatter and doubles easily as a set of serving bowls, and I was trying to think like an efficient non-hoarder.

But here’s the thing: pie crust NEEDS a wide, low mixing bowl. Trust me, I tried my first batch in the tall, skinny bowl, and it was way hard to cut the cold butter into the flour. Way hard. So these bowls can breathe a sigh of relief: no trip to the thrift store any time soon.

Once the dough is mixed, into the fridge it goes. For at least two hours. Don’t skimp on this. Just use it as an excuse to make yourself breakfast, and later, your pie filling. What starts as sticky, still somewhat disparate globs of butter and flour spends two hours in the fridges and emerges as a cohesive, easily rolled pie dough. So let it do its thing.

While it is, you can address those gorgeous fruits.

I was ready to abandon my hand pie project and just eat this as a simple fruit salad. This pie filling is as easy as it gets: raw peaches, raw raspberries, a bit of sugar and almond extract, and some instant tapioca to help the juices gel during baking. The peaches were perfect, and the raspberries were so ripe they nearly burst at the first touch of sugar.

We got pie dough! We got filling! Time to put ’em together in a bunch of tiny pies!

You can use any round cutting device that you want. I happen to have this handy little guy (the silver guy in the front) that cuts the original shape and later seals the pies with a handy built-in press. I’ve used it to make large raviolis, primarily, but it’s perfect for hand pies as well. But for once, the internet failed me: I could not find a link for one to share with you. Mostly because I can’t figure out what the hell to call it (biscuit sealer cutter wasn’t doing the trick). Points to anyone who can find this little treasure online!

A quick brush of egg wash to give us a nice golden crust, a sprinkle of sugar to make ’em purty, and about 30 minutes in the oven are the only steps left!

Some of your pies will leak. A little, or a lot. It’s okay! They’ll still taste awesome.

These little pies are a lovely way to show off some of the beautiful fruit that summer has to offer, and are delicious all on their own. They’d also be equally at  home snuggled underneath a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

But come to think of it, can you think of a pie that’s not?

Raspberry Peach Hand Pies

Makes 18-22 three-inch hand pies

1 batch pie dough
1 pint fresh raspberries
2 medium-sized yellow peaches, peeled and chopped
1/4 c sugar
1 tsp almond extract
1 1/2 T instant tapioca
1 egg yolk
1 T water
sanding sugar (for decoration)

Prepare the pie dough and allow to chill for two hours in the fridge wrapped in plastic wrap.

After the dough has chilled, preheat the oven to 375 °F. Place raspberries in a medium bowl and set aside. To easily peel the peaches, bring a small pot of water to a boil. Gently place the peaches in the boiling water for 30 seconds or so and then remove them with a slotted spoon. Place the peaches into a dish of cold water or run under cold water until the peaches are no longer warm. Halve the peaches to remove the pit, then slice into 1/2″ pieces and add to the bowl of raspberries. Add sugar, almond extract, and tapioca and mix well. The raspberries will begin to break down and release their juices almost immediately. Set the bowl aside.

Line two large cookie sheets with parchment paper. Dust a clean surface with flour and roll out one disc of your pie dough until it is about 1/8″ thick. Be generous with the flour to prevent the dough from sticking to the counter. Using a large biscuit cutter or other circular cutter about 3″ in diameter, cut out an even number of circles, using as much of the dough as possible. Remove scraps from around circles and press them back together in a ball and return it to the fridge.

For half of the circles, carefully spoon about 2 tablespoons of filling onto the center of each circle. Take the remaining circles and stretch them out slightly so they will completely cover the circles with the filling. Drape this stretched circle over the filling and press the edges down all the way around the circle. If your cutter has a sealing edge, press down firmly to ensure a seal is made. If not, press the tines of a fork around the edge of the circle to ensure the dough seals shut. Repeat until all pies have been sealed and place pies on the cookie sheet about 1/2″ apart. Use the tip of a knife to make a small slit in the top of each pie to allow for venting. Place the cookie sheet in the fridge while you build the rest of the pies.

Roll out the second disc of dough and repeat the pie-building process. Continue to recombine your scraps and re-roll them to maximize the number of pies you can complete.

Once all pies are ready and on the cookie sheets, combine the egg yolk and water in a small bowl and beat until mixture is slightly foamy. Brush over the top of each pie. Finally, sprinkle sanding sugar over all of the pies. The sugar won’t melt during baking, so use as much or as little as you like.

Bake pies at 375 °F for 25-35 minutes or until crusts are golden brown. Pies without a strong seal may leak slightly. Remove pies to a cooling rack and allow to cool for at least 20 minutes before serving.

Pies can be served warm or cool. Serve them by themselves, with vanilla ice cream, vanilla pudding, whipped cream, or whatever makes you happiest. Pies can be stored at room temperature for 3-4 days in an airtight container.