Heirloom Tomato and Charred Red Pepper Soup

It came upon us as quick as a blink, didn't it? I can't say I was completely ready. Of course I'm talking about our old friend, Fall.  

What a summer we had here! Glorious it was and longer than our typical (and measly) eight weeks. This year the sun and warmth stretched impossibly across late spring well into the third week of September. The long days of light! We were living the dream.

I do love the Fall, though. Cool mornings with spider webs damp and glistening in the light, fog hanging low across tree tops. Sitting by the fire at night.

Then, of course there's soup. 

Late last summer, I became obsessed with April Bloomfield's Summer Tomato Soup. I couldn't stop making or eating it. The minute I stopped eating it, I would start thinking about it again, the memory of its umami flavors causing the most primitive parts of my brain to clang, "Make soup. Again! Must eat!"

I'm not exaggerating. 

Some of you might think it's a bit late to be talking about tomatoes, but I know that a good tomato or two can still be found (I've seen them with my own eyes at the Ballard Farmer's Market most recently). Stragglers though they may be, they must be used, so this is what you should do with them without question: Make soup.

This soup takes those end-of-summer tomatoes sitting on your counter and combines them with the straggler red bell peppers that you also still have on hand.

Roast the peppers to the point of blackened char. Skin them. Add them to the tomatoes with salt, olive oil, a smidge of water. Toss in a few basil leaves and you're done. So easy. Low effort for a spoonful of glory.

Fall and winter can be hard on those of us who live around here. It gets so dark and stays damp for such a long time that light and warmth can become an abstract idea, a mere daydream. To gird against such occasions, it's best to make some extra of this soup and freeze it. Now.

When darkness and rain envelopes us soon enough, late summer will live on, if only in a bowl.

Heirloom Tomato and Charred Red Pepper Soup

Adapted from April Bloomfield.

Makes 4 servings.

Ingredients
2 lbs. heirloom tomatoes
1 lb. red peppers (or a mix of red and orange)
5 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
3 tablespoons plus 1/4 cup olive oil
3 teaspoons flaky sea salt such as Maldon
1/4 cup water
One handful of fresh basil leaves
1 scant teaspoon of basil pesto (optional)

Instructions
Preheat oven to 475°. Place peppers on side on baking sheet. Once the oven reaches temperature, place sheet in oven. Roast peppers for 20-25 minutes, until blackened and blistered. Immediately place peppers in a large bowl and cover with plastic to allow peppers to steam. Once they have cooled, peel skin and remove stems and seeds. Set aside. 

Place a fine-meshed sieve over a large bowl. Cut tomatoes in half, removing stems and any hard parts. Gently squeeze tomatoes over strainer, allowing juices to run through. Using fingertips, push any remaining seeds out of the tomato flesh. Place pieces of tomato flesh in bowl with juice.

Place 3 tablespoons olive oil with garlic in a medium pot. Cook over medium-high heat for a minute or two until garlic is just becoming golden. Add tomatoes and their juices and peppers. Add 1 teaspoon of salt and a few of the basil leaves. Give everything a stir and cover. 

After about 5 minutes, when tomatoes and peppers are swimming in juices, uncover and add the water. Stir. Adjust heat so that the mixture simmers gently. Allow to cook for 20 minutes. 

Once the mixture has cooked, turn off heat, add the other 2 teaspoons of salt. Add remaining basil leaves. Add pesto if using. Add the 1/4 cup of olive oil. Using an immersion blender, blend soup until it has emulsified and become smooth and creamy. Adjust salt if you like. Serve warm in bowls.

Carrot Jalapeno Soup with Two Garnishes

I was a vegetarian, then a vegan for over ten years. That is, until the day I walked by Zabar's in New York City when I was five months pregnant, realized that I would die if I didn't eat any salami, then turned around and went inside. Guess what I bought?

Yep, a salami and cheese sandwich on a kaiser roll. What I didn't know until after Marc and I returned from our trip was that pregnant women aren't supposed to be eating cold, cured meats such as salami since their immune systems are more vulnerable.

Well, it was another five days before we got on a plane to come home. In the meantime, I had to eat that same Zabar's sandwich every day (at least once), usually before I would walk across Central Park. That sandwich. It became a fixation, an overwhelming craving that seemed to come from some extremely desperate person I didn't know who was housed inside my body.

Thankfully, I was fine. My immune system didn't let me down. 

Since that Zabar's sandwich, I have continued eating omnivorously. I haven't regretted it, though I still do believe that it's best to eat a primarily plant-based diet.

Thoughts of my vegetarian and vegan past came up for me today when I was looking through a cookbook published in 2009: Tal Ronnen's The Conscious Cook. It was given to me by a friend when I first moved up to Washington. I revisited it today while trying to pare down my book collection.

Flipping through it, I recalled how I had studied its pages carefully in my attempts to be a thoughtful and "conscious" vegan. Then, I thought about how whole foods bloggers and cookbook writers today such as Heidi Swanson, Sarah Forte and Anna Jones approach plant-based eating in such a different and well, fresher, way.

See, if you look through Ronnen's book, though there are high points such as his amazing cashew cheese (who would have thought probiotic capsules could help make such a delicious thing!), you'll also notice the judicious use of processed meat substitutes and things like pre-made vegan mayo. I remember eating a lot of that back in the day.

Now I wouldn't consider doing such a thing. I prefer to prepare food that is closer to resembling something that was actually tended to and pulled out of the soil.  Really, if you're going to be a vegetarian, why not just eat a salad, with some roasted chickpeas and a lemon vinagrette, or maybe a tasty and nourishing vegetable and grain soup instead? Farinata with asparagus, like the recipe in My New Roots' cookbook is a fabulous and satisfying plant protein option.

This soup is just a friendly reminder to all the vegetarians out there to eat your veggies! Forget about all the pre-packaged stuff and just grab a bunch of carrots to make this minimal-effort, flavorful soup. 

Carrot Leek and Jalapeno Soup
I like using water when I make a vegetable puree soup. I want to really taste the actual vegetable and give it the starring role it deserves. If you don't have a leek in hand, it is perfectly acceptable to use an onion -- just not a red one. Dried jalapenos are actually even better used here than the fresh stuff. You might have some in the cupboard, go check. Toss them in just before you add the water and all will be well. And, veganize this by replacing the butter with coconut oil. Most importantly, don't leave out the garnishes! They transform this soup from a very nice meal into a spicy little party.

Makes A Quart.

Ingredients
1 1/2 pound carrots, sliced into 1/4" coins
1 large leek, light parts only, cut in half lengthwise then into thin slices
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
Small handful of dried, chopped jalapeno peppers, or use 1/2 to 3/4 of a fresh chopped     jalapeno*
4 cups of water, plus more to thin as needed.
Salt 

Instructions
Over medium-low heat, melt butter. Add leeks, turning up heat to medium. Add two large pinches of kosher salt. Saute leeks until soft. Add carrots and continue to saute for a few more minutes. If using dried jalapenos, add them now, then add water. Water should just cover the vegetables. Bring to a boil then turn down to a gentle simmer. Cover and cook for about 20 minutes, until carrots have softened. If using fresh jalapenos, add them five minutes before you turn off the heat.

In batches, process the vegetable mixture in a blender. Or, alternatively, use an immersion blender. Thin with water as desired. Adjust salt to taste. Garnish with carrot top oil and jalapeno pickle.

Carrot Top Oil
1/2 cup carrot top leaves, removed from woody stems
1 cup cold-pressed sunflower oil
scant 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

Place carrot top leaves, oil, and salt in a blender, whiz together until emulsified.

Quick Jalapeno Pickle
1 fresh jalapeno pepper, cut into thin rings or diced
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup white wine vinegar
1 tablespoon freshly-squeezed orange juice

Whisk together salt, vinegar and orange juice. Add jalapeno and allow to pickle for 5 to 10 minutes. The longer you allow the jalapenos to sit in the vinegar mixture, the more the heat of the pepper will mellow.
 

Leadville, Colorado & Spam and Herb Onigiri

We went. We saw. We cooked some Spam. We made it home. 

Two weeks ago, Kingston, Marc and I drove from here in Bellingham, Washington to Leadville, Colorado. We went onto Denver to visit with friends before heading back, over 1,400 miles each way. 

Leadville is a former mining town up in the mountains just over 10,000 feet with area peaks reaching more than 14,000 feet. It's now best known for the iconic ultra running and mountain biking races that have been taking place there for about the past thirty years. It's a basic kind of place, with one of everything you need and the quaintness of a crotchety old mountain town. It's just a few blocks long -- and wide. Which is to say, it's tiny.

My husband, Marc, was on the support crew for his friend, Chris, who was attempting to complete the Leadville 100 Trail Run ("Race Across the Sky") for a second time. Yes, 100 miles of running. Of Chris' four designated pacers (allowed only after mile 50!), Marc was to take the final leg, bringing Chris across the finish.

Did I mention that once the race starts at 4 a.m. on a Saturday (this year, August 22nd), there is no time for sleeping, little for eating and only room for forward movement, no matter how slow over the roughest terrain until the race is finished? That's how they get it done. Running at elevation, up past 12,000 feet. These athletes. This year, 650 of them. Men and women. All in serious beast mode. 

It takes the all-out efforts of a crew to get a racer across the finish line. Chris, AKA "Team Laszlo" (his middle name), had the best people taking care of him. 

His crew included his wife, Chanel, who paced him for four miles, cared for their little girl and made it to nearly every aid station; Olan, a veteran Leadville 100'er who kept him on pace for over 20 miles; Greg, who made sure Chris had the gear, nutrition, and anything else he required at each aid station; Luis, who paced Chris across 12 of the most challenging miles of the course terrain-wise, and of course, Marc.

Marrielle and I had the distinction of cooking up Spam, one of Chris' requested foods during the race. Salty and fatty, it's just what this endurance runner wanted to eat to keep going across mountainsides and over fields of boulders. Chanel delivered it to him with rice.

I don't think any of the crew got any sleep during the entire race as they were going all out and entirely focusing on Chris' times as he passed through each checkpoint. I didn't mention it before, but there are time cut offs that must be met throughout the course in order for each racer to continue on. The race must be completed in 30 hours, which is about six hours shorter than the time allowances of most 100-mile races.

We were all gathered just past the Twin Lakes Aid Station. Everyone who was staying at the cabin nearby, including all the kids, were there when Chris came through looking strong and still fresh at mile 39.

Chris, surrounded by people supporting him, asking him what else he needed as they got him ready to quickly move on.

It was not until the dark hours of Sunday morning when those of us still at the cabin learned that Chris had made it past mile 87 but had missed the time cut off at the mile 88 May Queen Aid Station. By fourteen minutes. Fourteen! Chris continued to run as long as he could, until they asked him to remove his timing chip.

It was brutal for all of us to hear what happened. I think it was even harder for Chris, who seemed to feel he had let the whole team down. 

But it wasn't that at all for the team. We talked instead about what an accomplishment it was that he'd gotten so far. To be able to even consider running a race like this at all -- that was tremendous. 

I felt like I couldn't find quite the right words to say to Chris when he waddled slowly up the stairs and into the cabin later that morning. I don't think there were any "right" words, really. Not finishing something can be so painful, especially when the whole point of the endeavor is to finish. The arc of it, the ups and downs along the way, the shin pain, thirst, hallucinations, are incorporated into the body and the totality of the experience -- suffering and all -- because the point is that it will end. It will end in a great way, in completion and satisfaction. And when finishing is not possible, as in Chris' case, it can feel like a ball of tangled-up feelings: disappointment, anger, frustration, sadness, not to mention the raw and blistered feet.

I've been thinking about it. Maybe these words from the iconoclastic Jack Kerouac, are best for such a situation. He wrote:

“I have lots of things to teach you now, in case we ever meet, concerning the message that was transmitted to me under a pine tree in North Carolina on a cold winter moonlit night. It said that Nothing Ever Happened, so don’t worry. It’s all like a dream. Everything is ecstasy, inside. We just don’t know it because of our thinking-minds. But in our true blissful essence of mind is known that everything is alright forever and forever and forever. Close your eyes, let your hands and nerve-ends drop, stop breathing for 3 seconds, listen to the silence inside the illusion of the world, and you will remember the lesson you forgot, which was taught in immense milky way soft cloud innumerable worlds long ago and not even at all. It is all one vast awakened thing. I call it the golden eternity. It is perfect.”

— Jack Kerouac

Dear Chris, the race you ran was perfect. Here's a little more race food for you for the next time around. Because, we all know there will be a next time. And we will all be there, pushing you along.

Spam and Herb Onigiri (AKA the perfect food for a 100-mile run)

If you have never eaten Spam, well bless you. As a kid growing up in Chinatown, it was unavoidable for me to be exposed to it (and happily so -- isn't Spam Fried Rice amazing?), as it is for anyone who lives around any Asian immigrants or their children. Chris grew up in Hawaii where it is impossible not to eat it. Onigiri covers the range of Japanese rice balls that can have all sorts of fillings placed on top or inside them -- bonito flakes, plums, tuna and mayo. This is more of a general approach which can be altered as desired. Simple, basic and quick, onigiri is just the thing to put together while in a cabin on a mountain top. Add whatever herbs you like, as well as a strip of seaweed (just dampen the ends a bit so that it sticks). Or leave it plain Jane, though I think the herbs provide a touch of freshness, a nice counterpoint to the Spam.

Makes 8 portions.

Ingredients
1 cup of cooked rice of your choice, though white short grain works best
12 oz. can of Spam (Original "Glorious Spam," Lite, or Low Sodium)
1/3 cup chopped herbs (parsley, chives, scallions)
1/2 teaspoon black sesame seeds

Guidelines
Add herbs and sesame seeds to cooked rice and combine well. Divide rice mixture into equal portions. Using damp hands, form each portion into a flat puck shape or ball (this is up to you). You can also take a piece of plastic wrap, place it into a small container or small circle-shaped cutter and press the rice into it to form the shape you want.

Slice Spam into 1/4-inch slices (note: for this amount of rice, you will have some Spam left over). Cut the slices into any shape you want. Place slices into a skillet and cook over medium heat to brown slightly. Flip pieces, repeat. When they are done, remove and place one piece on top of each rice ball. Add seaweed if desired. Eat immediately. Or, wrap up and take to an aid station to feed the hungry endurance athlete of your choice.

See you at the next Leadville 100!

Chocolate Squirrel Ice Cream with Hazelnuts and Breadcrumbs

Sometimes I wonder whether it's an advantage or a disadvantage for a child to have a therapist as a parent. (For my son, that would be a former therapist.)

Is there incessant analyzing of the child's every word and action?

Or, maybe too much explaining about feeling states? Repeated empathizing comments about how it's okay to feel how you feel but not to act upon it?

Am I screwing him up for life?

I sure hope not.

Being a little neurotic ("healthy neurotic," as mental health researchers call it), I am prone to such questions making sudden appearances, traveling from the hinterlands of my mind right to the fore. The healthy part though, is that I am able to step back and see the entire picture, including what's positive.

So, I do appreciate those moments where something occurs to reassure me that everything will work out fine. We had one such moment the other day at the park when I was squatting under the playground apparatus trying to hide from the burning hot Western Washington sun like some kind of vampire. Too hot! Too bright! 

I happened to be sitting beside one of those fake windows built for imaginative play. Kingston walked up to the opposite side of the window. I glanced up at him and found myself asking, "Would you like some ice cream? My store has lots of flavors."

"What kind?" He said, not missing a beat.

"Um. Let's see. I have vanilla..."

His eyes widened.

"And I have chocolate. Strawberry...Or maybe you'd like some chocolate swirl?"

His serious but wide-eyed expression transformed into a huge smile.

"Chocolate squirrel!" 

For a moment, I tried not to laugh, but my heart was filled with light -- with delight, really. Then, from thin air, I scooped great mounds of "chocolate squirrel" onto a cone and handed it to him. He took it carefully from me then asked for a napkin.

When we came home I decided I had to figure out how to make actual, real Chocolate Squirrel for him. After many vanilla-based experiments (oh my poor family - so much ice cream to eat), we all agreed that this was the right version for us.

Chocolate Squirrel Ice Cream with Hazelnuts and Breadcrumbs
That Nigel Slater. He's such a genius. When I came across his recipe for a hazelnut and breadcrumb cream and yogurt concoction, I knew I had to drop the homemade Nutella one I had been working on, even though it had been good. My friend Vicky had also just been complaining to me about how every year, the squirrels get all the hazelnuts from her tree before she can pick any of them. So of course I had to stick with the hazelnuts. This is a slightly pebbly, crunchy vanilla-based ice cream that is just the thing for anyone, whether human or squirrel. 

Slightly adapted from Nigel Slater with help from David Liebovitz

Makes about 1 1/2 quarts

Ingredients
About 1 1/3 cups fresh breadcrumbs
1/3 cup light brown sugar, packed
2/3 cup skinned, toasted hazelnuts

1 3/4 cup heavy whipping cream
1 1/4 cup whole milk
1/2 cup granulated vanilla sugar, or regular sugar
pinch of salt
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 vanilla bean, seeds scraped from pod
6 egg  yolks

1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/3 cup Lyle's Golden Syrup (or substitute light corn syrup)
1/2 cup water
6 tablespoons unsweetened Dutch-process cocoa powder
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

For the breadcrumbs
Preheat oven to 375°. 

Place the breadcrumbs on a baking sheet and scatter the sugar over it. Coarsely chop hazelnuts. Add to the breadcrumb mixture. Put in upper rack of oven for 8-10 minutes, keeping an eye on it, as the sugar can burn. When golden brown and well toasted, remove from the oven and allow to cool completely. This can be made a day in advance.

For the chocolate swirl
Whisk together sugar, golden syrup, water and cocoa. Over low heat bring mixture just to a boil, cooking for about one minute. Turn off heat and pour into a heat-proof container. Cool mixture and place in the fridge. This is best prepared the day before, as this will thicken in the fridge. 

For the ice cream custard
In a large bowl, prepare an ice bath. Place a smaller bowl in the ice bath and set a fine-meshed strainer on top. Pour heavy cream through the sieve into the bowl.

In a small saucepan, combine sugar and milk. On medium-low heat, warm the mixture. When warm, add the scraped vanilla bean pod and seeds. Turn off heat, cover with lid, and allow vanilla to infuse for 30 minutes.

After the 30 minutes, reheat the milk over medium-low heat until it is hot, Stir together egg yolks. Add a few tablespoons of milk to the yolks and stir quickly. Add a bit more milk and stir again. This warms up the egg yolks and prevents them from curdling.

Pour the yolk mixture into the heated milk-sugar mixture and stir quickly using a heat-proof spatula. Continue stirring and scraping the bottom. This will prevent lumps and clumps from forming. As you stir and scrape, you will eventually notice that the bottom is becoming easier to scrape. It almost feels silky, as if the spatula is gliding across the bottom of the saucepan. This is a sign that your custard is nearly done. It is fully done when the mixture coats the spatula.

Pour the custard through the sieve and into the bowl of cream. Scrape any remaining goodness from the spent vanilla pod into the bowl as well. Add vanilla extract. Mix quickly and vigorously so that everything is combined and cools slightly. Cover the bowl and place in the refrigerator to cool completely. Overnight is best.

When the mixture has thoroughly cooled, place it in your ice cream maker and churn according to manufacturer's instructions. Once you have started the churning, add the breadcrumb and nut mixture.

When finished churning, drizzle chocolate mixture into the bottom of a freezer-proof container.  Place half of the finished ice cream on top of the chocolate, then add more chocolate on top, swirling through the ice cream. Add remaining ice cream then drizzle more chocolate over the top again and swirl. Cover or wrap tightly and place the container in the freezer for a few hours to firm up a bit more.

Black-and-Blueberry Pie with Spelt Crust

If you've been reading along this summer, you already know that one of the things I love doing most in the world is picking berries. For me, it's one of the most dreamy and relaxing things I could ever be doing other than lying in a shady patch on a warm, sunny day relaxing with my eyes closed and perhaps actually dreaming.

When the opportunity came up recently to head to Bow Hill Blueberries for some U-Pick, I got Kingston dressed, stuffed him into the car seat and jumped in after him.

Bow Hill Blueberries is located about thirty miles south of us at the end of a narrow, winding Chuckanut Drive, with its spectacular cliff drop offs and the Pacific Ocean alongside. Here, you land in Bow-Edison and its alluvial plains stretching out toward the ocean. It's one of my favorite spots. 

Berry picking, especially at a U-Pick farm is always better when in the company of friends who equally love the activity. On this particular day, we were with Jet, who is a month older than my Kingston, and his mom, Vicky. Armed with our all-day grazing passes (refunded if you pick at least 10 pounds, which we wisely did), we made our way slowly through rows of Rubels toward the smaller heirloom Stanleys with their pure, blueberry flavor. 

Kingston and I first met Jet and Vicky in gymnastics class when the boys were about a year old. They seemed to have similar temperaments -- more on the cautious side, two little observers while the rest of the tiny humans in class veered toward wildness, scampering across balance beams and fearlessly practicing forward somersaults down padded pretend hills. Vicky and I always chatted in class and eventually, we began to meet up with each other for outside activities.

It's never been easy for me to make friends. I seem to fall into the category of an introvert who appears to others to be an extrovert. This is sometimes a strange line to walk. It's easy enough to start up a conversation with someone, but to venture further is often daunting, mostly when it's a complete stranger. When it's happening it can feel like my insides are being scrubbed by a very rough scouring pad. It's not at all that I am wary of people. I am fascinated by other humans -- what motivates them, the experiences that shape how they see the world. Hence, my former occupation as a therapist. 

I suppose in the end, we are just wired to lean a little this way or that. Or to sit somewhere in the middle. 

I think Vicky is a bit like me, except maybe actually more extroverted. And she's always curious. She's the one who will always want to go beyond the small patch of the park or beach that we're sitting on to see what's "over there." We usually end up discovering something.

It's good to have a friend like that. Meanwhile, I'm the one who is always thinking and reflecting and wondering about life and what it all means (I know, boring!) and this is happening in my head while we are just walking along, sitting, or watching the boys flick stones across the water together on a Friday afternoon.

Summer is for spending time outside. Sauntering along trails, watching the blue jays flit around the cottonwoods, and yes, picking berries. Summer is for the days when the sun is high for what seems to be stretches of days, weeks at a time. Summer is for chatting with a friend while baking pie. This pie.

Enjoy it while it lasts.

All dressed up and ready to go...into the oven.

Black-and-Blueberry Spelt Crust Pie
This is a beautiful, juicy pie full of purple jewels of fruit. The spelt flour gives it a slightly nutty flavor and makes for a somewhat more sturdy but still flakey crust. I bake crusts made with 100% all-purpose flour at high heat first then turn it down to 350°, but this crust seems to come out better when baked at one temperature as directed below. The process might seem long and the effort level fairly high, but I promise it's really, really worth making and sharing with friends, or anyone else you like -- perhaps even a stranger.

Adapted from Bon Apetit, with help from Kate McDermott.

Serves 8-10.

Ingredients
Crust
1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup spelt flour
1 tsp. kosher salt
1 stick plus 6 tablespoons cold, unsalted butter, cubed
10 tablespoons ice water

Filling
1 3/4 pounds blueberries (5 1/2 cups)
6 oz. blackberries (1/2 dry pint), gently mashed with a fork
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg, freshly grated
1 tablespoon finely grated lemon zest
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1 large egg, beaten with 2 tablespoons of water

Turbinado or demerara sugar for sprinkling

Instructions
For the crust:
Whisk together both flours and salt. Toss butter into the flour mixture, so that all pieces are coated. Putting hands into an offering gesture, place some of the flour and butter into your open-palmed hands. Using your fingers and thumbs, press down on the butter, smearing it into the flour. Allow bits of the mixture to fall back through your fingertips and into the bowl. Repeat until you have worked the butter through most of the flour. You will notice that you can really start smelling the butter, which means that it is warming up and getting worked in.

Drizzle ice water over the flour-butter mixture in a spiral working from the outside in. Toss the mixture with your fingers or a fork. Press together a bit of the dough. If it holds together, it is ready. Press the mixture together into a dough. Turn out onto a work surface, divide in two and pat each portion into a chubby disk. Wrap disks separately in plastic and refrigerate for an hour

When the dough is well chilled, remove one disk from the refrigerator and roll out. The best way to do this is to unwrap the dough, placing it onto a lightly floured work surface. Take your rolling pin and wack it a few times on each side. Roll out from the center, sprinkling with a bit of flour as needed, until the dough is a 12-inch round. Fold into quarters and transfer it to a 9-inch pie pan, easing it in gently. Unfold. Trim overhang to 1 inch. Place in the freezer for 10-15 minutes.

Meanwhile, get the filling ready.

For the filling:
Place granulated sugar in a bowl. Add berries, flour, salt, lemon zest, lemon juice and nutmeg. Toss well to combine. Place filling into the prepared bottom crust. 

For completing the pie:
Roll out the second disk of dough to a 12-inch round. Lay the dough over the filling and trim the overhang to 1 inch. Cut vents into top crust. Press the overhang together and crimp or create decorative edge of your choice. Alternatively, you can make a lattice top as I did by cutting the second rolled-out crust into even strips and laying them on top of the filling in a weave pattern. Then, fold the edge of the bottom crust over the lattice edges to seal. Place pie in freezer for 1 hour.

Preheat oven to 375°. Brush pie with egg wash and sprinkle generously with turbinado or demerara sugar. Bake for about 1 hour 15 minutes, until the crust is golden brown and the filling is bubbling. If the edges get dark too quickly, cover them with foil. Cool the pie completely before serving. Several hours to overnight is best.