Just call me Violet

Related Posts with ThumbnailsI've been feeling rather Violet Beauregarde-ish this past week. You all know Violet; she's the snarky little cuss from Willie Wonka & The Chocolate Factory (and Charlie and the same) who disregards warnings to not eat the still-in-experimental-stage blueberry gum and in nabbing and noshing on a piece, swells into a giant blueberry in danger of exploding.

I myself feel like I've swollen into a giant blueberry and am in danger of exploding. The reason for my blue state: Blueberries were on sale this past week. At an incredible price. For pounds -- I said POUNDS, not PINTs -- of the little balls o' goodness. And I couldn't resist.

I have fond memories of blueberries as a kid. Often during summertime visits to my paternal grandparents, the visit would include picking wild blueberries. Each of us kids would be handed a gallon ice cream pail, the plastic ones with a metal handle, and sent off into the woods to fill it with blueberries. And fill it we would, with mounds and mounds of berries, returning the bucket to Grandma and getting a big smile of thanks in return.

To be honest, I don't remember any specific food bearing the berries in the days that followed, only the picking of them. And nibbling berry after berry while filling the bucket. There was no shortage of berries, no need to temper the sampling as they were dropped into the bucket.

You won't find such blueberry abundance where I live now, won't find me out picking them as there wouldn't be enough to fill even pint-size ice-cream containers. So I buy them from the grocery store. And this week I bought lots -- pounds, in fact.

And I have eaten pounds. I've had blueberries on my Cheerios every morning for breakfast. Blueberries with my lunch. Blueberries for morning snack, blueberries for afternoon snack. And each time I'd open the refrigerater for any reason at all, I'd pop a small handful of blueberries into my mouth, just because they were there.

I also made blueberry cobbler, an altered version of "Patsy's Blackberry Cobbler" from The Pioneer Woman Cooks. It was divine. I strongly urge you to go buy some blueberries while they're on sale -- or pick a pound or two if you're so fortunate as to live in such a place that picking is an option -- and give this cobbler a try. Just beware: You may not be able to resist the urge to gobble the entire dish yourself, placing you in a Violet Beauregarde-ish state similar to mine. But you and I, unfortunately, aren't likely to have a team of oompah loompahs rush in to rescue us from our explosive fates.

Blueberry Cobbler

1/4 pound (1 stick) butter, melted

1 1/4 cups plus 2 tablespoons sugar

1 cup all-purpose flour

1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 cup milk

2 cups fresh blueberries, rinsed and patted dry

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease a 3-quart baking dish. In a medium bowl, whisk 1 cup of the sugar with the flour, baking powder, salt and milk. Whisk in the melted butter. Pour the batter into the baking dish. Sprinkle the blueberries evenly over the top of the batter. Sprinkle 1/4 cup sugar over the top. Bake for 45 minutes. Sprinkle the remaining 2 tablespoons of sugar over the top and return to oven; bake 10 more minutes.

Serve warm, topped with ice cream or whipped cream.

Makes 8 servings.

Today's question:

What's your favorite summertime fruit dish? Feel free to share the recipe in your comment.