As you may have noticed, I am smitten with the seasonal blueberries - seduced by the promise of sweet summer desserts. So at lunchtime today, I trawled the internets in search of something special. I was looking for a glimmer, something scrumptious that caught my eye, winked at me, and whispered sweet somethin' somethin's in my ear. I found it on epicurious - a Blueberry Sour Cream Pie. "How yum" thought I.
So I asked Mister Man to pick up a couple of ingredients for me on his way from work, and set out for home with the kind of joy that is experienced when there's a new recipe burning a hole in your pocket.
When I stepped into our humble abode, Mister Man had shape shifted. Instead of the 40 something grown up I have come to love, I found a pouty boy standing at the stove, poking at the halibut he was fixin' for our dinns. "What's up?", I asked.
"It sucks", he said. "Dinner is ruined. I wrecked the halibut."
I half expected him to kick the counter, cross his arms over his chest and stomp out of the room. What he did say was that he had used Herbs de Provence as seasoning, and I had to agree that perhaps that wasn't the best move... However, I gave the halibut a taste and it wasn't bad at all!
Pollyanna that I am, I enthusiastically ate the halibut and zucchini. Mister Man sat across from me and poked at his food claiming that he wasn't hungry (this just doesn't happen around our place). But despite his lack of vim or vigor, we washed up and I rolled up my sleeves and started prepping my Blueberry Sour Cream Pie.
I decided not to make a traditional pastry, but rather whipped up a graham wafer crust. Many of the people who wrote reviews on epicurious had done the same, so I wasn't nervous about that choice. I WAS a bit perplexed with the instruction that read "bake at 400 degrees" (which I thought was kind of high). But I am a trusting fool, so I whipped up the filling and did as instructed. But part way through the baking process, the unmistakable scent of "on the cusp of burning" started to waft into the living room. So I pulled the pie, scooped off the exposed and burnt bits of the crust and made up the pecan topping, reduced the oven heat, put the pie back in to cook at little longer at a lower temp. I even made a little "aluminum foil hat" to protect the edge of the pie.
When I finally pulled it, it didn't look as though it had set. Still in denial, I placed it in the fridge to cool.
There must be something in the water today, because when I pulled it from the fridge and sliced it, and attempted to slide a piece of the pie onto a plate, it fell apart like a 16 year old girl at a Jonas Brothers concert. And sadly, dear reader, I didn't rise above it all. Nope. I THREW the spatula onto the counter and stomped out of the room cursing loudly because "the stupid filling didn't set" and "it's friggin' IMPOSSIBLE to serve a slice of pie with a rectangular flipper. It's antithetical to simple principles of geometry for god's sake". Yup. I actually said that, as I toppled on the edge of tears.
And Mister Man, bless his little heart, was right there in the kitchen, ignoring the slop that had landed on the counter. He wanted his pie already! And he was going to use kind, gentle, soothing words to get it! And somehow I was actually able to hear him and calm down a bit.
So maybe it didn't set, and I'm still not convinced that the pecan topping is a perfect flavour match with the sour cream, blueberries and almond extract, but it actually didn't taste bad at all. The blueberries were delish. The sweetness of the almond extract was nicely countered by the tang of the sour cream. But seriously. It was a failure.
And I even contemplated skipping this confession. But Mister Man wouldn't hear of it. "Come on now", he reasoned. "Would Julia Child leave out the part where she messed up?"
So here I am. Feeling a bit foolish and childish, but still writing. I didn't take a photograph of the disaster. Some things are better left to the imagination. I mean, I wouldn't want you to have nightmares or anything. In lieu of the slop photo, I'm wondering if you would accept a nice picture of something that didn't come from our kitchen today?
I'm going to leave you with one of my favourite photos of Mister Man. This is his bliss. Fishing....