Meanwhile, the top layer browns into a flaky pie (excuse me, cobbler) crust. As the thing bakes, that middle layer of pastry soaks up the juices of the bubbling fruit and turns into a sheet of sweet steamed dough. Her Northern Alabama upbringing was filled with a cobbler that is essentially a dessert lasagna: a layer of fruit topped by a pastry crust, a second layer of fruit, and a second pastry crust. My mother grew up knowing a completely different cobbler. I admit it's not the cobbler everybody grows up with. Photo by Chelsea Kyle, Food Styling by Anna Stockwell Make sure you dig through to the bottom-that gooey layer is the real star here. As it bakes, the batter puffs up around the fruit and turns golden, resulting in a cobbler with a gooey bottom layer and a cakey top, studded throughout with sweet fruit. The classic version is made by melting one stick of butter in a 9x13-inch dish, whisking together one cup each of self-rising flour, granulated sugar, and whole milk with a splash of vanilla pouring this batter over the melted butter and scattering a few cans of fruit, with their juices, over that batter. Or, as they call it in southern Middle Tennessee, where I grew up, a "cuppa' cobbler" or "one-cup cobbler." Like pound cake, Cuppa' Cobbler gets its name from the standard measurement of its primary ingredients. My family's cobbler is, simply, a cobbler. ![]() And it's not a crumble or a crisp or a pandowdy or any of those other things. It's a buckle, she says, or some other deep-dish, baked fruit dessert that she can't quite remember the name of.īut my family's cobbler is definitely not a buckle, which is defined as a fruit-studded coffee cake with a crumb or streusel topping. ![]() Every time I mention my family's cobbler recipe, my colleague Anya tells me it isn't actually a cobbler.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |