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Raspberry Pie Squares -- The Food That Connects Every Version of Me

Week 422. Spring 2024. I am 41 years old and standing in my kitchen — the Bench house kitchen, the one that held cancer and divorce and cinnamon rolls — and the stove is on and something is cooking and the house smells like fresh herbs and possibility and this is my life. This is the life I built.

I went for a run this morning — the Saturday routine, the greenbelt, the river, the particular meditation of feet on a path and lungs filling and the body doing what it was told it couldn't do. The running group meets rain or shine.

Mason is 13 and navigating middle school with the quiet competence that has always been his way — focused, kind, certain of who he is in a way that took me thirty years to achieve.

Lily is 11 and riding horses with the fearlessness of someone who has never considered the possibility of falling.

I made strawberry shortcake this week. The food continues. The food always continues. It is the thread that connects every week to every other week, every year to every other year, every version of me to every other version — the woman on the kitchen floor, the woman at the chemo recliner, the woman at the grill, the woman at the outdoor table under the string lights. All of them, connected by the food they made with their hands. All of them, me.

I made strawberry shortcake earlier in the week, and then I made these — because once I start, I don’t stop. That’s always been true. The raspberry pie squares came together on a quiet afternoon while Mason was at a friend’s house and Lily was still smelling like the barn, and it felt exactly right: something bright and a little tart and easy enough that I could make it without thinking too hard, which is sometimes exactly what you need after a week of feeling grateful for absolutely everything.

Raspberry Pie Squares

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 55 min | Servings: 12

Ingredients

  • 2 cups all-purpose flour
  • 1/2 cup powdered sugar, plus more for dusting
  • 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, cold and cubed
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt
  • 3 cups fresh or frozen raspberries
  • 3/4 cup granulated sugar
  • 3 tablespoons cornstarch
  • 1 tablespoon lemon juice
  • 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

Instructions

  1. Preheat and prepare. Preheat your oven to 350°F. Lightly grease a 9x13-inch baking pan or line it with parchment paper, leaving an overhang on the sides for easy lifting.
  2. Make the shortbread crust. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, powdered sugar, and salt. Cut in the cold butter using a pastry cutter or your fingertips until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Press about two-thirds of the mixture firmly and evenly into the bottom of the prepared pan to form the base crust.
  3. Bake the crust. Bake the crust for 12–14 minutes, until just set and very lightly golden at the edges. Remove from oven and set aside.
  4. Make the raspberry filling. In a medium saucepan over medium heat, combine the raspberries, granulated sugar, cornstarch, and lemon juice. Stir gently and cook for 5–7 minutes, until the mixture thickens and the berries have broken down into a glossy filling. Remove from heat and stir in the vanilla extract.
  5. Assemble. Pour the raspberry filling evenly over the warm crust. Crumble the remaining shortbread mixture over the top of the filling, scattering it loosely so the raspberries peek through.
  6. Bake until golden. Return the pan to the oven and bake for an additional 20–22 minutes, until the topping is lightly golden and the filling is bubbling at the edges.
  7. Cool and serve. Allow the squares to cool completely in the pan — at least 1 hour — before cutting into bars. Dust lightly with powdered sugar before serving.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 290 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 40g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 55mg

Heather Dawson
About the cook who shared this
Heather Dawson
Week 422 of Heather’s 30-year story · Boise, Idaho
Heather is a forty-two-year-old vet tech, divorced single mom, and cancer survivor who grew up on a cattle ranch in southern Idaho. She beat Stage II breast cancer at thirty-two, lost her marriage six months later, and rebuilt her life around her two kids, her three-legged pit bull, and her mother's cinnamon roll recipe. She cooks ranch food on a vet tech's budget and doesn't sugarcoat anything — except the cinnamon rolls.

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