Peach Blueberry Pie -- The Sweetness of a Summer That Has Finally Settled

Late July, and the heat is the Lowcountry's confession — the admission that this place was built for people who can endure, who can stand in the steam and not melt, who can cook in a kitchen that is ninety degrees and not complain because the complaining is a waste of the energy that the cooking requires. I have always been a woman who can endure. The endurance is not heroic. It is genetic. It is Simmons. It is Mama.

Robert and I have found the rhythm of two retired people in one house — one of them fully retired (Robert), the other preparing to retire (me). The rhythm involves morning coffee on the piazza, his workshop time, my library time, our evening together at the table, the dinner I cook, the newspaper he reads, the quiet that fills the house the way the heat fills the air: completely, without asking, the default state of a marriage that has outlasted its crises and that now exists in the particular peace of two people who have stopped fighting and started accompanying.

The cookbook is being printed. Catherine sent a photograph of the cover — Carrie's painting of the parsonage kitchen, reproduced beautifully, the title in clean type: "Parsonage Kitchen: My Mother's Lowcountry Recipes." The dedication page reads: "For Joy, who tastes everything and remembers what matters." The dedication is the book's heart. The heart is Joy. And Joy does not know she is the dedication, and the not-knowing is the beauty, because the beauty of being loved without knowing you are loved is the purest form of love, and Joy has always been the purest form of everything.

I made tomato pie — the summer dish, the ripe tomatoes, the mayonnaise, the basil. The pie was Robert and me on the piazza, eating summer from a plate, the two of us in the particular contentment that arrives when the fighting is done and the building is done and the raising is done and the only thing left to do is eat and be grateful and be here.

Tomato pie is savory contentment—dinner on the piazza, the heat of July, Robert and me finding our footing in this quieter life. But the sweetness of that evening asked for something more: a dessert that carried the same spirit of the season, ripe and unhurried and a little bit golden. Peach blueberry pie is a Lowcountry summer in a crust—fruit pulled from the warmth of the earth, sweetened just enough, baked until the kitchen smells like the very thing you’ve been working toward all these years. It felt right to end that night with a slice of something that tasted the way the dedication page read: purely, without apology, like love.

Peach Blueberry Pie

Prep Time: 25 minutes | Cook Time: 55 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 20 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

• 1 package (14.1 oz) refrigerated pie crusts (2 crusts), or homemade double-crust pastry
• 3 cups fresh peaches, peeled and sliced (about 4 medium peaches)
• 1 1/2 cups fresh blueberries
• 3/4 cup granulated sugar, plus 1 tablespoon for topping
• 3 tablespoons cornstarch
• 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
• 1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
• 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1/8 teaspoon ground nutmeg
• 1/4 teaspoon fine salt
• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
• 1 large egg, beaten (for egg wash)

Instructions

1. Preheat and prepare. Preheat your oven to 425°F. Fit one pie crust into a 9-inch pie dish, pressing gently into the bottom and sides. Leave the overhang for crimping. Refrigerate while you prepare the filling.
2. Make the filling. In a large bowl, combine the sliced peaches, blueberries, 3/4 cup sugar, cornstarch, lemon juice, vanilla extract, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt. Stir gently until the fruit is evenly coated. Let rest for 10 minutes so the juices begin to release.
3. Fill the crust. Pour the fruit filling into the chilled pie crust, spreading it evenly. Dot the top of the filling with the small pieces of butter.
4. Add the top crust. Lay the second pie crust over the filling. Trim both crusts to a 1/2-inch overhang, then fold the edges under and crimp firmly to seal. Cut 4 to 6 small slits in the top crust to allow steam to escape.
5. Apply egg wash and sugar. Brush the top crust lightly with the beaten egg, then sprinkle evenly with the remaining 1 tablespoon of sugar for a golden, slightly crisp finish.
6. Bake. Place the pie on a rimmed baking sheet to catch any drips. Bake at 425°F for 20 minutes, then reduce the oven temperature to 375°F and continue baking for 30 to 35 minutes, until the crust is deep golden brown and the filling is bubbling through the vents.
7. Cool before slicing. Transfer the pie to a wire rack and allow it to cool for at least 2 hours before slicing. This allows the filling to set so it holds its shape when served.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 320 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 12g | Carbs: 52g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 210mg