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Quick Strawberry Cobbler -- The Period at the End of the Sentence

August, and Carrie leaves for Fukuoka on September 1st. One month of having. One month of standing in the kitchen with a woman who is about to cross the Pacific and who is, in the crossing, taking with her a piece of this kitchen that will exist in Japan — in the recipes she carries, in the hands she has trained, in the voice that says "don't rush the roux" in a language that is now both English and Japanese, because the roux is universal and the universal does not require translation.

She spent the week saying goodbye — to Joy (a Saturday visit that lasted four hours and that ended with Joy holding Carrie and saying "come back" and the "come back" being both a request and a prediction, because Joy knows, in the way Joy knows everything: simply, completely, without doubt), to Mama (who does not understand the leaving but who touched Carrie's face on Thursday and said "pretty" and the "pretty" was the goodbye), to the kitchen (which she stood in at midnight on Saturday, alone, running her hand over the counter the way you run your hand over a beloved face when you are memorizing it for the distance ahead).

I watched her from the hallway. I did not interrupt. The midnight kitchen was hers — the girl who learned to cook in this room, who wrote in the Parsonage Kitchen journal at this table, who stirred the roux at this stove, who became a woman between these walls. The room was saying goodbye to her too. The room remembers everyone who has cooked in it. The room will hold her place.

I made nothing this week. Carrie cooked every night — the farewell meals, each one a Lowcountry dish, each one a chapter in the book of a summer that is ending. She made she-crab soup on Monday, biscuits on Tuesday, collard greens on Wednesday, shrimp and grits on Thursday, fried chicken on Friday, Frogmore stew on Saturday. On Sunday she made peach cobbler. The cobbler was the period at the end of the sentence. The sentence was the summer. The summer was the love.

Carrie chose peach cobbler as her final night’s dish — and I understood it completely, because cobbler is the most honest dessert there is: no pretense, no layers to decode, just warmth and sweetness and the smell of something good baking in a kitchen that loves you back. I’m sharing this Quick Strawberry Cobbler in her honor, because the spirit of it is exactly the same — the bubbling fruit, the golden crust, the way it fills a room. Make it on a Sunday. Make it when someone you love is about to go somewhere far away. Make it and let it be the period at the end of your own summer sentence.

Quick Strawberry Cobbler

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 45 minutes | Total Time: 55 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

  • 1/2 cup unsalted butter, melted
  • 1 cup all-purpose flour
  • 1 cup granulated sugar, divided
  • 1 tablespoon baking powder
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt
  • 1 cup whole milk
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 4 cups fresh strawberries, hulled and halved
  • 2 tablespoons lemon juice
  • 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon

Instructions

  1. Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 350°F. Pour the melted butter into a 9x13-inch baking dish and tilt to coat the bottom evenly.
  2. Make the batter. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, 3/4 cup of the sugar, the baking powder, and salt. Add the milk and vanilla extract and stir until just combined — a few small lumps are fine. Pour the batter evenly over the melted butter. Do not stir.
  3. Prepare the fruit. In a separate bowl, toss the strawberries with the remaining 1/4 cup sugar, the lemon juice, and the cinnamon. Let sit for 5 minutes until the berries begin to release their juices.
  4. Layer and bake. Spoon the strawberry mixture evenly over the batter. Again, do not stir — the batter will rise up around the fruit as it bakes. Bake for 40–45 minutes, until the top is golden brown and a toothpick inserted in the center of the crust comes out clean.
  5. Rest and serve. Allow the cobbler to cool for at least 10 minutes before serving. Serve warm, plain or with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 285 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 45g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 210mg

Naomi Blackwood
About the cook who shared this
Naomi Blackwood
Week 325 of Naomi’s 30-year story · Charleston, South Carolina
Naomi is a retired librarian from Charleston who spent thirty-one years putting books in people's hands and now spends her days putting her mother's Lowcountry recipes on paper before they're lost. She survived her husband's affair, her father's sudden death, and the long goodbye of her mother's final years. She cooks she-crab soup in a bowl that Carolyn brought from Beaufort, and in every spoonful you can taste the marsh and the memory and the grace of a woman who chose to stay and rebuild.

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