Homely surprise

I love a good surprise. Cobbler is a good surprise, all homely on top, but yummy luscious melting fruit inside with crunchy on top, still warm enough to melt the ice cream on top. Now, cobbler is traditionally a summer dish, accommodating berries of all persuasions, but winter also offers up some possibilities. Lynne Vea, a chef who regularly does demos at our co-op, offered up a recipe a few years back for a winter fruit cobbler: pink lady apples, bosc pears, with a nutty streusel on the top. She served it with a rich vanilla ice cream.

Last night, I was in need of a dish to take to a board meeting, and decided this dessert would fit the bill nicely. Besides, I had excess apples and pears that had to go--soon. I was peeling and chopping apples when Number One Son sensed food. "Cobbler? Oh, yum!" "Sorry, not for us." "Oh." I started in on the pears. Little One, who is A Reindeer all Shaggy and Grey these days, scampers by (I need to buy knee patches), and sniffs with his invisibly red nose. "Pears?" Big Brother chimes in, "It's cobbler." "Oh, goody!" replies Shaggy. "But it's not for us." "Oh."

In spite of their puppy eyes, I open the cupboard to get out some pecans, and a big bag of chocolate chips falls out on the counter in front of me. The boys laugh, but they know what I'm thinking. I sprinkle some chocolate on top of those pears (pears + chocolate = Belle Helene), before I sprinkle on a thick coating of streusel.

My colleagues and I enjoy the surprise of digging into crust, ladling out still warm fruit with a little something extra, and I manage to bring home enough for dessert tonight. Good thing too, because when Reindeer and his brother climbed into bed this morning, their first question was, "Did you bring any cobbler back home?"