Berry Almond Crisp

May came in warm and I put in the cold crops — kale, chard, spinach, two kinds of lettuce — and felt the particular optimism that comes only with planting. You put seeds in the ground and you are by definition making a bet on the future. I've always found that orienting. Even in difficult years the garden has been something I could believe in.

My neighbor Ted Marchand stopped by the fence line — standing well back, the two of us talking at a distance that would have seemed absurd two months ago and now is just the way things are. He's seventy-three and lives alone since his wife passed four years back, and he's been on my mind. I walked over a container of soup, set it on the fence post, and backed away. He laughed at the choreography of it. We stood there for twenty minutes in the sun talking about nothing important. Gardens and weather and whether the ski area would open next winter. It was good.

I've been thinking about the rhubarb. It's coming in strong now, those fat red stalks that were Helen's annual obsession. She made rhubarb jam every May without fail, always more than we could use, giving it away in those little hex-lid jars. I have maybe a dozen of those jars in the cellar, empty, waiting. I think I'm going to make the jam. I found her recipe — she adapted it from her mother's, less sugar than most, which lets the tartness stay honest.

Finn's birthday is next week. Five years old. I'm mailing him a package — a picture book, some maple candy, a drawing I did of the farm that Sarah can put on his wall. It's not the same as being there. But it's something with my hands in it.

Helen’s rhubarb jam recipe is still on my list — I’ll get there — but standing in the kitchen this week I wanted something I could finish in a single afternoon, something that used what the season is putting forward and asked me to be present with it. This berry almond crisp is that kind of recipe: unhurried, forgiving, and generous in the way that the best homemade things are. It’s the kind of dish you could leave on a fence post for a neighbor, or mail a note about to someone who is turning five and deserves to know that people are thinking of him.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 40 min | Total Time: 55 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

5 cups mixed fresh or frozen berries (such as blueberries, raspberries, and sliced strawberries)
2 tablespoons granulated sugar
1 tablespoon cornstarch
1 teaspoon lemon juice
3/4 cup old-fashioned rolled oats
1/2 cup sliced almonds
1/3 cup all-purpose flour
1/3 cup packed brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon salt
5 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

Instructions

Preheat the oven. Heat oven to 350°F. Lightly butter a 9-inch square or 2-quart baking dish and set aside.
Prepare the filling. In a large bowl, toss the berries with the granulated sugar, cornstarch, and lemon juice until evenly coated. Pour the mixture into the prepared baking dish and spread into an even layer.
Make the crumble topping. In a separate bowl, combine the oats, sliced almonds, flour, brown sugar, cinnamon, and salt. Add the cold butter pieces and work them into the dry ingredients with your fingertips until the mixture resembles coarse, clumpy crumbs with pea-sized bits of butter throughout.
Assemble and bake. Scatter the crumble topping evenly over the berry filling. Bake for 38–42 minutes, until the topping is deep golden brown and the berry filling is bubbling at the edges.
Rest before serving. Let the crisp cool on a wire rack for at least 10 minutes before serving. Serve warm, plain or with a scoop of vanilla ice cream or a spoonful of plain yogurt.

Nutrition (per serving)

Berry Almond Crisp — Making Something with Your Hands in It