Right before we drove away from San Francisco, Fred's aunt, Jenny-King, told us about all of the wild blackberries, ripe and ready to harvest, growing all around the family cabin in Inverness. And though I am a total weirdo about almost everything fruit-related, I do love a blackberry. Perhaps it's their tartness. Jenny-King then went on to tell us about her recipe for a blackberry crumble that she and her girls loved to make each year when the berries are in season and growing rampant around the Inverness house.
She even made us a little kit with all of the crumble elements mixed together in a Ziplock bag. Just add blackberries. And butter. A stick of it.
And we were off. Driving north, headed
toward Tomales Bay.
This was the part I was waiting for,
the part I was really the most excited about. The little house tucked
away in Inverness, Tomales Bay, Point Reyes, all very magical to me.
I remember when Fred took me up there the first time, a few months
into dating each other. He made a point to tell me that though it was
a very special place for him, it wasn't for everyone. It was rustic,
he told me. There was no television, no internet, probably no phone
service. There were spiders. But it was a house that was a part of
him, his family - the paternal side, and so also a little bit of his father who passed away some time ago. It was
filled with good memories; memories of fishing and grilling oysters
and board games – and blackberries.
Though those reasons alone would have
made me fall in love with the house and with Inverness, it would have
most certainly happened without them. I'll tell you right now that I
am no camper. At least, I don't think I am – it's been at least
fifteen years since I've camped (back in my late teens/early
twenties, Paz, Spencer, Sam and I went camping on the beaches of
North Carolina every Summer). The Inverness house is in no way
camping, but rustic, yes.
Perfectly, beautifully, serenely,
romantically rustic. And very clearly filled with happy memories of
family, children growing up, dogs, friends, love, and fun. My
favorite room is the kitchen. Its windows look over the Tomales Bay
and it's very bright. It is filled with odds and ends that family
members and guests have left over the years, a mishmosh of different
sized wine glasses, cast-iron, old sippy cups for small children,
wonky knives and my personal favorite, a boom box that plays cassette
tapes. There is a Motown tape that I listen to over and over and over
again each time I visit. And it never gets old.
During the days we wander around and
collect cheese from the Cowgirl Creamery, Brickmaiden Bread, salume, duck eggs and bacon from the local Marin Sun Farms butcher shop, and clams, mussels and oysters, oysters, oysters from the Tomales Bay Oyster Company and Hog Island Oysters (because one just can never have enough). Then we
drive out to Point Reyes, walk out to the tip of the world to the
lighthouse and stand and look out over an almost 360 view of water
before hiking back up over three hundred steps to begin the
strikingly scenic drive back to town. Back in the cabin, we pour some
local wine, make a cheese board, grill oysters on the deck, and
retire inside by the huge fireplace listening to that Motown tape
until we fall asleep in each other's arms, a little drunk, a little
full, and extraordinarily content, blissful, with Smokey Robinson
crooning (a little roughly as a result of that over-played tape) in
our ears.
And then we wake up with the sun coming
up over the bay. And we do it all over again, save for maybe picking
one of the precious (and delicious) local restaurants for our one
meal out.
I mean, come on.
This last trip up, we took my dad and
his girlfriend, Dale, with us. We were a little nervous that they
wouldn't think it was as magical as we do. But one step, maybe two,
in the house and they were sold. And so we shared with them our
Inverness experience. To the T. Including the magnificent blackberry
harvest.
After the lighthouse afternoon and our
lunch of oysters on the bay, both Dad and Dale were spent. Nap time.
So Fred and I went on a hike to forage for those wild blackberries.
In hindsight, I A) packed horribly (as I always do) and B) wore the
absolute, complete wrong outfit for the mission. Why did no one tell
me about all the thorny parts?! So my cute, rolled up pants, sandals,
and cable knit sweater that gets pulls in it super easily were,
perhaps, not the best plan. Cest la vie. We still got ourselves a
bounty. Fred practically had to drag me away, saying something about
saving some blackberries for other people in the neighborhood, or
some such thing. I couldn't stop myself. Perhaps because, at that point, after all of the thorn pricks on my hands, arms and ankles, and clearly destroyed sweater, I was in it to win it - I had given in to The Experience.
When we returned to the house the old
folks were just coming out of their nap haze. So I opened a bottle of
rosé, made up a cheese board and put on the Motown tape (which Dad
quickly changed to a classical music radio station). We then made a
simple presentation of fresh, steamed clams (pulled from the Tomales
Bay that day) with drawn butter and a crusty bread followed by a
pretty classic dish of sautéed mussels with white wine, cream and
garlic, all with a huge chopped salad. Which pretty much knocked Dale
out.
And three remained.
So, we built a fire, opened a bottle of
local Pinot Noir (a glass of rum for Dad) and I got to that
blackberry crumble.
In our 'kit' from Jenny-King there were
about two cups of Trader Joe's Ginger, Almond and Cashew Granola cereal, about a half a cup of flour, maybe a quarter of a cup of
sugar, a few dashes of powdered ginger, and I'm pretty sure that was
about it. Oh, some cinnamon?
So I preheated the oven (which is all
lit by propane and runs about fifty degrees hot) to about 350. Put
all of the rinsed blackberries in a deep cast-iron pan with a little
lemon zest, sprinkled the 'kit' over the top, sliced up a stick of
butter and scattered that over the crumble along with some brown
sugar and put in in the oven.
Jenny-King told us we would know it was done when all the blackberry juices bubbled up through the
crumble and the top was slightly browned. And she was absolutely
correct. This was about thirty or so minutes. While the crumble was
cooling, Fred put a little heavy cream and some sugar in a bowl and
got to whisking.
The night was cool, the windows were
open, the fire was roaring, the wine glasses were full, and the
classical music played on as the three of us sat by the hearth
scraping clean our bowls of fresh, hot
blackberry-that-we-foraged-ourselves-from-the-property crumble,
topped with fresh whipped cream.
And so once again, twice in one trip, a
Cosmic Muffin moment. There was no where else I could have possibly
wanted to be. Talk about perfection.
And now, now I'm back in Los Angeles.
And it is go time. One month to wrap things up: my life of thirteen
years, my friends, my job, packing up my house, and hitting the road
with Fred and our pups for the long way home. The extended drive
across the country, through the cities, towns, communities,
restaurants and kitchens of our country, and specifically the South,
until we pull up to our new house in Richmond, Virginia.
Are you ready for us?
Jenny-King's Wild Blackberry Crumble
Serves 4-6
*This is all approximate as I was not given an actual recipe. But winging it can be fun!
INGREDIENTS
4-5 cups fresh blackberries
4-5 cups fresh blackberries
2/3 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup light brown sugar
8 Tablespoons (1 stick) butter, sliced
1 teaspoon lemon zest
2 teaspoons powdered ginger
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon salt
DIRECTIONS
In a large bowl combine granola, flour, brown sugar, ginger, cinnamon, and salt.
In another large bowl combine berries, 1/2 cup sugar, lemon zest and toss to coat. Pour berry mixture into large cast-iron or casserole. Top with crumble topping and evenly distributed slices of butter.
Bake until top is golden and fruit is bubbly, about 35 minutes. Serve warm.
Top with whipped cream or ice cream.
One year ago: Cape Gooseberry Port Reduction Sauce
Two years ago: LQ@SK
Four years ago: Cheesy Creamed Corn with Cilantro
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