One of the nice things about being a food writer is that people give me food, almost, I think, as a challenge. “See what you can make out of this load of stuff!” my benefactors seem to be saying. In the past few years I’ve received dry pasta, flour, zucchini (but then, who hasn’t been the victim of a random zucchini donation?), tomatoes, squash, eggs, a huge box of snack-size applesauce cups, rhubarb, peaches, plums, pears and, most recently, 8 quarts of blackberries picked from my dad’s property in Battle Ground.
This is an annual occurrence — the Bequeathing of the Berries — but this year I wanted to do something more than make my usual freezer jam. I wanted to make pie. Two pies, actually: One for now, and one to freeze for Thanksgiving.
Blackberries are more of a summer fruit, but I figured that if I mixed in a few ripe pears with the blackberries, I would be right on the money vis-à-vis classic fall flavors. Throw in some ginger and cinnamon and it’s a regular Fallapalooza. (Even with our too-hot October and fires and smoke and briefly being included in the Nakia Creek Fire evacuation zone, I’m trying to embrace the autumnal spirit.)
The pie is a happy marriage of a traditional pastry-bottom pie and a crisp with buttery oats-and-sugar topping. The fresh fruit is in the middle. As the pie cooks, the sugary topping full of autumn spices is going to sink right into the fruit, forming its own layer. It’s a pie crisp or a crisp pie. It could be a pisp or maybe a crie but neither one of those things sound very appetizing, so let’s just call it a wonderful fall dessert.