Ignorance is bliss. Sunday I was blissfully ignorant of the fact that my refridgerator was dying even as I was completing my grocery shopping. As I rounded the frozen food aisle, the colorful labels on the frozen berries and fruits caught my eye.
What could I do with those? I was planning on frying about 10 pounds of Buffalo Wings that afternoon and something berry sweet to balance the tangy wings sounded good. A plan began to form in my 3.5 pound brain.
I grabbed a bag (16 ounce) of frozen blackberries and a bag (ditto)of frozen peach sections and headed back to the baking aisle for a ready made graham cracker crust.
I am not a pie maker, but a mild form of inspiration struck and here's what I did.
I let the fruit defrost a little and then I cut up the peach sections into bite-size chunks.
In a pan, I melted a pat of butter and then dumped the blackberries and peaches in.
I added 1/4 cup of sugar to sweeten it just a little. I like berry pies on the tart side of sweet.
After the fruit, butter, and sugar had simmered and blended awhile, I gave it a squirt of real vanilla extract and stirred in a cup of "Honey Bunches Of Oats" cereal that I had first crushed by hand. The cereal was to add texture, bind the juices, and add it's own complimentary flavor.
The next step was to turn off the heat, let it cool a little, and then dump it in the ready made graham cracker crust. That went into a 375 F oven for ... uh oh ... let's see, I fed the dogs, chopped the celery and carrots for the wings, put away the rest of the groceries in the dying fridge ... maybe 15 minutes.
Then I pulled the pie out while I sauteed a little more crushed cereal in a pan with butter and some brown sugar. This was blended and browned just a little before being added to the top of the pie as a crumble topping.
Back in the oven just long enough to brown that topping. I guess that was about ... uh oh ... let's see ... the chickens were on the porch again, I remember I went out and chased them off, then I scratched Feather's ears on the way back in ... when I did get inside, I realized the baby turtles had not been carried out to bask in the sun yet, so I did that ... hmmm ... 10 minutes.
Shortly after the pie came out, I discovered the death of the fridge, so what should have been a relaxing Sunday evening turned into crisis Sunday evening.
In between packing ice chests and carting food to a friend's extra fridge, we still managed to have our wings and for desert ... Guy Pie.
It was surprisingly good and any fool could make it.
Now you know why I call it Guy Pie.