My Guy Mixed Berry Pie

The transition after a brutal breakup always amazes me. In the space of an evening, really because of one event and a handful of nasty words, someone I knew, loved, trusted, someone I called my best friend, became “that guy.” That guy who broke my heart, that guy who was lazy and only so-so in bed, that guy who was cruel, that guy who was selfish. My parents say, “aren’t you so glad to be rid of that guy.” Girlfriends nod in agreement, “that guy is such a sociopath.” Even while he was breaking up with me, I remember saying, “Who are you? I don’t even know that guy you claim to be.”

But before he was the evil, the unforgivable, the horrid, the terrible “that guy,” he was my guy. And as hard as they are to unearth from the depths of my scorned lady brain, memories of that version of him still exist. Trips taken, moments shared, inside jokes, ahem…physical interactions…, gifts given, restaurants eaten in, movies seen, these things, small as they may seem, leave marks, impressions that can’t be erased. Happy moments that make you angry because they still make you happy.

One of my favorite memories of him is from a summer long ago when my guy of the time came to play house with me in Maine for a week of vacation.

It was just the two of us with a big house to ourselves, freedom. We slept in, we went to the beach, loaded up on seafood, we watched a junk ton of Netflix and drunkenly made berry pies late into the evening.

The pie baking was like something out of a cheesy rom-com, cue the Michelle Branch song. There we were, covered in flour, rolling out a pie dough with a wine bottle, his hands over mine,  just feeling young and alive. We put the pie in the oven, finished our bottle of booze, and found ourselves so…. preoccupied… my guy and I almost let the pie burn.

Don’t worry – it didn’t.

We caught it just in time. The crust perfectly golden, the inside mix of berries bubbling happily. The kitchen smelled like cinnamon and butter. Warmth. Home.

So here’s My Guy Mixed Berry Pie, an ode to times past, when the loving was simple and the pie was sweet. Though my guy is now “that guy,” or who knows maybe somebody eles’s guy (good luck), the emotional shift continues and now I can finally say that, at the very least, I am glad to have shared a slice with him.

Here we go!

Make one recipe of my All Purpose Pie Dough and divide it into two portions. Let it chill for one hour. Remove one portion from the fridge and roll it out so it is an inch or two bigger than the pie plate. Place in pie plate and return to fridge while you are making the filling.

Mix together the sugar, cornstarch, salt and cinnamon.

Add the sugar mix to the berries and toss gently. Try not to break up the berries.

Look at that!

Place the berries in the pie plate.

Okay – few things happening here. Make an egg wash. Roll out the second portion of dough. Run some egg wash around the edge of the bottom dough layer. Top pie with second dough circle and tuck in, pressing against the egg washed edge to seal. Use a fork to make a pretty border and cut a heart in the middle. Or don’t…

Place in a 350° F oven and bake for an hour and 10 minutes (or 15) until the insides are bubbly and the crust is golden. Like above!

Oh look – the heart broke a little – how appropriate. Remove the pie from the oven and cool slightly before eating. Don’t want to burn your pie hole…

Look at this glorious beast of a pie. That Guy and I ate half a pie that night and the other half for breakfast the next morning. Cut me some slack… it’s fruit!

Get drunk, make love, eat pie with your ride or die.