As summer ends this weekend…a blueberry memory for you and pie at the end

I grew up spending my summer in Atlantic Beach, Florida – where white sand and surf was only four blocks away, where my Nonna and Pop-pop lived.

Pop-Pop used to buy 4 quarts of blueberries for $1.00 on his way home from work at Fort Dix (he was in the Army). Their purchaser, cheap price, and healthy sweetness made these berries special. After Nonna and Pop-Pop moved to Florida, Nonna only made Rolly Polly occasionally because blueberries became too expensive.

When Nonna cooked, she rarely used a recipe. When trying to ascertain who taught her to cook, I could never get a straight answer. I am not sure who taught her to make her standard blueberry Rolly Polly, but it could be any of the following:

· Her Italian mother (Nonna never really talked about her, and blueberry Rolly Polly doesn’t really seem like an Italian dish, plus her family was very poor and never really had money to buy sugar). This is not the most likely option.

· Her Mother-in-Law, Grandma Leonard (a sturdy German lady, who was the only one of her in-laws that showed her kindness). Blueberry Rolly Polly is not blueberry streusel – but similar, so Grandma Leonard is a likely candidate for the origin.

· Her Jewish landlady (There was a time in between her first marriage and her second one to my Pop-pop where she rented a room from a Jewish lady – and Nonna always calls her by that label – who was apparently a very good cook and taught Nonna how to cook lots of things – but I can’t remember which dishes specifically…). She is a very possible recipe creator.

· The Betty Crocker Bisquick box. It is very possible that in my Nonna’s enthusiasm for the short cuts provided by such baking mixes, she just simply followed the recipe on the box for a fruit cobbler. Despite my desire to romance-ify her cooking, I logically conclude that knowing my Nonna, this is the most likely.

Nonna checked any treat she was making every ten minutes. Each time she opened the oven door, she remarked on how the dessert was doing – if it was cooking evenly, getting browned where it should be browned, or whether or not the fruit was bubbling up and over the edge. She would always take it out of the oven before it was done, ask my mom what she thought, and then cook it 10 minutes longer than the recipe called for, regardless of what my mom said. Although paranoid about getting salmonella from the raw eggs (There was never any batter licking allowed in her kitchen), she was eager to see the sweet treat cooked. Nonna loved feeding us. “Mangia” she constantly says. (That is Italian for “Eat up!”)

The best part of blueberry Rolly Polly was eating it. Pop-Pop always ate his in a bowl of milk. Me, I couldn’t stand a soggy mess – I liked mine dry. The grown-ups had theirs with coffee. If there was Breyer’s Vanilla Bean in the freezer, Nonna will bring it out. (only Breyer’s ice cream for this lady!) And no one turned down an a la mode.



I don’t have blueberry Rolly Polly to share with you today, although I am sure you could recreate it yourself, just my fond memory of blueberries in the summer. Karl and I try to avoid processed foods like Bisquick now, but I do have a link to the best blueberry pie you will ever eat from a culinary genius-friend. When I am being diligent with my diet to help some chronic problems I have, I don’t eat gluten. So, if you are gluten free like me, just use almond meal instead of the wheat flour in the crust. This recipe is also vegan! This will be the crown of a beautiful end-of-summer dinner. Enjoy! Yodersmith Anniversary Pie