Dewberry cobbler is your reward
Picking dewberries is a wonderful warm-day pastime. When I was young, my friends and I would march out to the wilder parts of my suburban Houston neighborhood—such as the bayou, vacant lots or the rough patch next to the golf course—and brave water moccasins, thorns and poison ivy to score some of these black orbs, warm from the sun and ready to pop in your mouth.
Usually, we’d eat them straight from the bush, smearing our t-shirts and shorts with the dark, sticky juice. But sometimes we’d be more organized and bring a container so we could pick them and then take them home to our parents so they could make dewberry cobbler for dessert.
Spending plenty of time on a farm, I know that when you venture into a bramble you need to wear strong boots filled with sulfur to keep those chiggers at bay. But what was cool at the farm was not cool in Houston, and so we’d usually be wearing at best tennis shoes and at worst flip flops as we made our way through the berry patch. Needless to say, you can get scuffed up something ugly after a bout of picking dewberries if you’re not properly clothed. But no matter—the joy of finding food in the wild mitigated any cosmetic damage done to our legs.
Between my mom’s organic garden in the backyard and my family’s farms, I had plenty of experience with food coming out of the ground. But there was something special about dewberries. Perhaps it was because we suffered greatly to get to them. Or perhaps it was because there were never any grown-ups involved in our foraging adventures. Or perhaps it was just because this wild food tasted so darn good.
Some argue that blackberries and dewberries are one and the same. I don’t know the answer to this. And sadly, I haven’t seen dewberries growing in any New York City vacant lots or in Central Park (though if there are dewberries here, please let me know!) so I can’t do an immediate taste comparison. But we do have blackberries and they are a decent substitute for dewberries.
I like to make a cobbler with my berries, though they could also be made into jam, juice or tarts. What do you make with yours?
And don’t get me wrong—a blackberry cobbler is nothing to sniff at. But I know that it would taste even better if I had made it with berries I had picked myself, berries still glistening with the morning’s mist that gives the berry its proper name—dewberry.
Dewberry cobbler
Ingredients
Filling ingredients:
- 4 cups dewberries or blackberries
- 1/2 cup sugar
- 2 tablespoons cornstarch
- 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
- 1 teaspoon lemon juice
Crust ingredients:
- 1/2 stick of butter
- 1 cup of flour
- 1/2 cup sugar
- 2 teaspoons baking powder
- 1/2 cup of buttermilk
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
Instructions
- Preheat the oven to 350° F.
- Place the rinsed berries in a large cast-iron skillet or 9-inch round cake pan, and toss the berries with the sugar, cornstarch, cinnamon and lemon juice. Let them macerate for 20 minutes.
- To make the crust, melt the butter on low in a pan, and then stir in the flour, sugar, baking powder, buttermilk, and salt. The dough will be slightly sticky, moist yet pliable.
- Pat out the dough and place it over the berries.
- Bake 40 minutes or until light brown and bubbling.
TheCatskillkiwi–No, I’m not sure that they grow up here.
Melissa–Ah, perhaps that’s the difference! And y’all were smart to wear your farm clothes when you went picking.
Tommy–I did not know that.
Ren–Cypresswood? Why were practically neighbors! I went to Cy-Fair High School. And honeysuckle has to be one of the world’s most exquisite scents and flavors.
Dawn–Ha! It does sound like that!
John–That’s too funny–your mom was clever!
Pink of Perfection–No? I guess they didn’t grow in your neck of the woods.
Cindy–You’re very welcome!
Suburban Housefrau–Apricots! There’s nothing like fresh ones just picked off the tree.
Greg–I have never seen a bear and I don’t know if my system would survive the adrenaline rush if I ever do run into one! Bears and berries reminds me of the children’s book “Blueberries for Sal.”
Helene–And come August you can taste some if you wish!
Hillary–I know–kids are fearless!
Anjea–More tart, eh? Good to know!
Cody–Thanks! And I believe there is no limit to how much you can eat.
Danielle Lou–Thanks for the link!
Mandy–I’m honored–why thank you!
Amy–How wonderful to be able to walk out to your driveway whenever you have a hankering for berries in your pancakes!
My grandmother ran the elementary school cafeteria & the food was pretty good southern cooking; I do know that the junior high cafeteria was a serious shock. In 5th grade, two guys brought in enough dewberries for the whole class to have cobbler. (The other classes had to make to with canned blackberry cobbler.)
"Southern Blackberry Cobbler" is the latest flavor from Blue Bell Ice Cream. (We know it's supposed to be dewberries, but they're into "truth in advertising.") Quite delicious–with berries & bits of pie crust in vanilla ice cream. I think it's one of their temporary flavors, but the website is mostly down for maintenance right now.
Of course, I hear tell Blue Bell is not available everywhere….
I was just thinking about dewberries this morning. Now I’m remembering hot spring days in Edna picking dewberries on my grandma’s land and then helping her make dewberry jelly and cobbbler. I love this blog so much. Thanks for the reminder of good days.
I love cobblers and crumble. Especially when you are still warm from the oven and the topping has that slight crunch to it .. delicious.
Yet another wonderful memory nudge courtesy of a fellow homesick Texan! My brother and I would gladly scramble through the bushes in the vacant, treed (!) lot near our home in Spring Branch to be rewarded with mouthfuls of wild dewberries. Didn’t know until today that’s what they were — we just called them blackberries! And too young and ignorant to think to take some home where I’m sure my mother would have gladly baked some into a cobbler. Thanks for the recollection material!