June, and the summer has arrived with its annual declaration that air conditioning is not a luxury but a sacrament. The library system is launching summer programming, which I now oversee with the administrative distance of a woman who has been promoted out of the work she loves most — the children's reading program, the patrons, the daily miracle of books finding readers. But the distance has given me something else: perspective. I can see the whole system now, and the whole system is serving more people this summer than ever before.
James is working at the bookstore full-time for the summer — his last summer before college, which he intends to spend exactly as he spent his first summer at the bookstore: surrounded by books, recommending novels, and eating lunch at the sandwich shop next door. The consistency is both comforting and poignant. The boy does not change his habits. He deepens them.
Mama had a bad week. On Monday she didn't recognize Robert for about ten minutes — she asked me, "Who is that man?" and I said, "That's Robert, Mama. My husband," and she said, "Oh yes. Robert. He's tall." The episode passed, and she was herself again by lunch, cooking a soup she made up on the spot — a combination of whatever was in the refrigerator, which is how the best soups are born: from necessity and improvisation and the deep knowledge of a cook who has been improvising for sixty years.
The improvisational soup was delicious. I didn't write it down, because some recipes are not meant to be repeated. They are meant to happen once, in a specific kitchen, on a specific day, made by specific hands that will never make exactly this combination again. The soup was a moment. The moment was perfect. And perfection, like soup, is consumed in the moment and exists afterward only in memory.
I made peach ice cream this weekend — hand-cranked, Mama's recipe, the overripe peaches from the Johns Island farm stand. The cranking took twenty minutes, and I shared the duty with James, who complained about the arm strain with the good humor of a young man who understands that the strain is part of the recipe. Mama ate a bowl and said, "This is summer," and she was right, and the summer was in the peach and the cream and the crank of the handle and the company of the people who turned it.
The peach ice cream reminded me that the best summer foods ask something of you — a little effort, a little patience, a little willingness to stand in the heat and crank the handle until the thing becomes what it’s meant to be. After a week that held grief and grace in equal measure — Mama’s episode on Monday, and then her voice saying “This is summer” over a bowl of ice cream on Saturday — I wanted to stay inside that spirit a little longer. A triple berry pie felt right: the kind of recipe that asks you to be present, to work with what the season offers, and to share the result with people who make the effort worth it.
Triple Berry Pie
Prep Time: 30 minutes | Cook Time: 55 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 25 minutes | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 2 pre-made or homemade 9-inch pie crusts (one for bottom, one for top)
- 2 cups fresh or frozen blueberries
- 2 cups fresh or frozen raspberries
- 2 cups fresh or frozen blackberries
- 3/4 cup granulated sugar
- 1/4 cup cornstarch
- 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
- 1 teaspoon lemon zest
- 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
- 1 tablespoon unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
- 1 egg, beaten (for egg wash)
- 1 tablespoon coarse sugar (for topping)
Instructions
- Preheat and prepare. Preheat your oven to 400°F. If using homemade dough, roll one crust out to fit a 9-inch pie dish and press it in gently, leaving a 1-inch overhang around the edge.
- Make the filling. In a large bowl, combine the blueberries, raspberries, and blackberries. Add the sugar, cornstarch, lemon juice, lemon zest, vanilla extract, and cinnamon. Stir gently until the berries are evenly coated. Let the mixture sit for 10 minutes so the fruit begins to release its juices.
- Fill the crust. Pour the berry filling into the prepared pie crust, spreading it evenly. Dot the top of the filling with the small pieces of butter.
- Add the top crust. Roll out the second crust and lay it over the filling. Trim any excess dough and press the edges of the top and bottom crusts together, then crimp with a fork or your fingers to seal. Cut several small vents in the top crust to allow steam to escape.
- Apply egg wash. Brush the top crust evenly with the beaten egg and sprinkle with coarse sugar.
- Bake. Place the pie on a foil-lined baking sheet to catch any drips. Bake at 400°F for 20 minutes, then reduce the oven temperature to 350°F and bake for an additional 35 minutes, until the crust is deep golden brown and the filling is bubbling through the vents.
- Cool before slicing. Allow the pie to cool on a wire rack for at least 2 hours before cutting. This allows the filling to set so it slices cleanly. Serve at room temperature or slightly warm, with vanilla ice cream or whipped cream.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 340 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 13g | Carbs: 54g | Fiber: 5g | Sodium: 180mg