It is time once again for my annual raspberry post. You see, early June is my time to contemplate all things raspberry. Why now? What’s stopping me from meditating on the delights of baked and fresh raspberry dishes in, say, April when spring starts, or July when everyone is making juicy fruit crisps? The answer is simple really: raspberries are actually in season now. Not in April or July. Now. Sure you can buy raspberries all year long; and if you’re a commercial grower I’m sure you can extend the season from early spring to late summer or even fall. But if you are a home gardener, this is your raspberry moment.

One thing to know about growing your own raspberries is that you can pretty much forget about the vines for most of the year. In my backyard, they sit alongside a fence near the barbecue. Throughout the summer they pretty much act as a green foliage background to cover up the fence. When summer is done, their leaves change color a bit and then start to fall, memories of their luscious fruit barely concealed by the apples that are ripening heavily above them. By the time winter arrives, I’m focused on pruning, cutting back dead wooden stalks to make room for younger shoots that will emerge soon, the skeletons of old flower buds that once housed berries now dry and sitting vacant. When spring arrives I am struck with just how lovely the small white flower buds are, peaking out of the verdant green leaves that are new and growing toward the sky. I’m always amazed at just how tall those vines then become in the span of a month or two, maturing and getting leggy like a young teenager until they reach the lower limbs of my apple tree. And then just when I’m getting ready for summer, the berries appear. It’s clandestine at first, with only a few hiding under lower leaves, their rich raspberry red peeking out. Excited and anxious to taste them, my family stands right out amidst the vines, eating as we pick, with none making their way into the house. Each day more berries ripen, until we are overwhelmed with them a week later, the vines literally drooping, laden with fruit.

It seem miraculous just how big my patch has become, and numerous the berries. After all, I planted only one lone vine in a gallon pot six years ago. Since that time, my patch has grown from a small one-foot area to 10 feet, now spanning half my side yard. Even better is that these vines are thornless, so I can let my kids romp through them on berry-picking missions without worrying about scratched arms or poked faces.

So what do we do with our haul of berries? In years past we have eaten our share of berry shortcakes and I’ve also tried my hand at making raspberry jam. This year, however, I decided to focus on making tarts. After years of purchasing expensive pastry cream and fruit tarts from La Farine, I thought it was time to get over my fear of making the perfect crust and cream filling. When all was said and done, my trusty pie crust recipe (which is really BAB blogger, Kim Laidlaw’s crust recipe) worked beautifully, and the pastry cream (a Williams-Sonoma recipe) couldn’t have been easier to whip up. My husband even said he liked the tart better than La Farine’s, although I wonder if he just liked saving the money.

So if you find yourself with some sweet ripe raspberries, try making a tart. It’s really the nicest way I can think of to bask in the season.

Recipe: Seasonal Raspberry Tart with Pastry Cream
A summer tart made with freshly prepared pastry cream, a flaky crust and just-picked raspberries.

Prep time: 20 minutes
Cook time: 30 minutes
Total time: 50 minutes
Yield: 1 10-inch tart

Ingredients:
2 cups fresh raspberries (washed and air dried)
1 batch pastry cream (see recipe below)
1 batch of tart dough (see recipe below)

Instructions:

1. Fit tart dough into your pan and blind bake for 20 minutes at 350 degrees. Be sure to set some foil or parchment paper on top of the dough and then weigh it down with either pie weights or dried beans (which will become inedible after baking) to keep the dough from bubbling up in the oven.

2. Remove tart dough from the oven and remove the pie weights/beans and parchment paper/foil. Bake for another 10 minutes or until golden brown. Remove from oven and cool.

3. When crust is cooled, spread the pastry cream along the bottom and then nestle the raspberries on top. You can dump them all on or organize in circles for a more uniform appearance.

4. Serve as is or top with whipped cream.

Recipe: Pastry Cream
(From Williams-Sonoma Cooking at Home by Chuck Williams and Kristine Kidd, printed with permission from Weldon Owen)

Cook time: 15 minutes
Yield: 1 cup

Ingredients:
1 cup milk
2 egg yolks
1/4 cup sugar
4 1/2 teaspoons cornstarch
pinch of salt
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Instructions:
In a small, heavy saucepan over medium heat, bring the milk to a simmer. Meanwhile, in a heatproof bowl, whisk together the egg yolks, sugar, cornstarch, and salt until well blended. Slowly add about one-third of the hot milk to the bowl with the yolk-sugar mixture, whisking constantly. Then pour the combined mixture back into the saucepan and cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until the mixture comes to a boil and thickens slightly, about 3 minutes. Continue cooking, stirring constantly, for 1 minute longer.

Remove from the heat and pour through a fine-mesh sieve placed over a heatproof bowl. Gently stir in the butter until melted, then stir in the vanilla. Cover with plastic wrap, pressing it directly onto the surface to prevent a skin from forming. Poke a few holes in the plastic wrap to hasten cooling. Let cool, then cover tightly and refrigerate until well chilled, at least 2 hours, or up to 3 days.

Recipe: Flaky Pie or Tart Dough
(Adapted from a recipe by Kim Laidlaw)

Prep time: 10 minutes + 30 minutes refrigeration
Cook time: 30 minutes
Yield: Enough for one 10-inch tart

Ingredients:
1 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon kosher or sea salt
6 tablespoons very cold unsalted butter, cut into cubes
1/4 cup ice water + 1 tablespoon

Instructions:
1. To make the crust, in the bowl of a food processor, stir together the flour, and salt. Sprinkle the butter over the top and process for a few seconds, or just until the butter is slightly broken up into the flour but still in visible pieces. Sprinkle the water over the flour mixture evenly, then process until the mixture just starts to come together.

2. Dump the mixture out of the bowl onto 2 large sheets of plastic wrap. Press the dough together into a mound and then wrap with plastic and press into a flat disk. Refrigerate the dough until chilled, about 30 minutes or up to 1 day, or freeze for up to 1 month.

I received Janie Hibler's book, The Berry Bible, in the mail recently. I was excited to check out a book that focused on preserving, putting up, baking and cooking with the dozens and dozens of different kinds of berries in the markets these days. Plus, Hibler's work is rock-solid. She's a contributing writer for Gourmet, Food and Wine and Bon Appetit and grew up in my neck of the woods (Arcata, CA) which immediately gives her a little clout in my book.

So I sat down with a glass of iced tea and started reading. To be fair, The Berry Bible isn't really a book that you'd sit down with a glass of iced tea and read from front to back. It's more of a reference with an A-Z Berry Enclyopedia that profiles berries and berrylike fruits--many of which I guarantee you've never heard of (mountain ash berry, anyone?). Then the book moves on to discuss Berry Basics, a section devoted to information such as freezing berries and making your own purees. Hibler raises the important point that so many berries are available year round now, but they're often not the best quality. She advises buying up good berries when they're in season or from the farmer's market and freezing them to preserve them throughout the year. The easiest way? Rinse, pour onto a baking sheet lined with a paper towel, pat dry, freeze on the sheet and then bag up in plastic bags or airtight containers. And then, of course, there are the 175 recipes spanning everything from spicy blackberry brandy to almond gooseberry cream pie. Many of the recipes are adapted from some of Hibler's favorites that she's gathered from friends, bakeries, and cookbooks spanning the country.

Prepping for one of Hibler's recipes: Buttermilk Berry Muffins

Hibler's obsession with berries began early. In the Introduction, she details growing up in Northern California and picking berries along the trails there. I can relate. I have vivid memories of wild berries growing in schoolyards, along major highways, and by the beach. I didn't realize how lucky we were. As a young adult, Hibler moved to Portland, OR where her love for berries turned more towards obsession. She made a point to learn all about the berries of the Pacific Northwest. She ran a cooking school and when visiting chefs would come to teach, she'd most look forward to some down time so she could drive them out to the berry fields. Her passion for cooking and baking with berries shines through each page, and the little tidbits of berry history and quotes about berries are usually endearing (some of the literary berry quotes start to feel a bit onerous at times).

For me, the highlight of the book is the Bread chapter. This is obviously because I'm much more of a baker than a cook. And I'm an occasional canner at best. But even for non-bakers, the Bread chapter is exciting in its variety and approach to baking with berries. From Dutch Pancakes with Cranberry Butter and Mrs. Roger's Bucket Dumpling to Ginger Scones with Lemon Blueberry Filling, Hibler includes old fashioned and contemporary recipes alike. I decided to try the Raspberry Buttermilk Biscuits. They're quick to put together and are a great way to use up leftover buttermilk.

Muffins ready to go into the oven!

I found them to be incredibly light and not too sweet--they're quite low on sugar; much of the sweetness comes from the berries themselves. They're a simple muffin without any complex spice profiles or long list of ingredients, but they're beautifully studded with warm oozing berries and bits of oats. A pretty and healthy celebration of the season.

25 Minutes later...they're ready

Berry Buttermilk Muffins
I adapted Jane's recipe by using 1/2 whole wheat flour and sprinkling oats on top.

Makes: 12 3-inch muffins or 9 jumbo muffins

Ingredients:
Ground cinnamon for sprinkling
1/2 cups sugar, plus sugar for sprinkling
oats for sprinkling
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup whole wheat flour
1 tsp. coarse salt
6 Tbsp. cold unsalted butter
1 large egg
1 cup buttermilk
1/2 pint (1 cup) frozen raspberries, blueberries, and/or blackberries

Preparation:
1. Preheat the oven to 400 F. Grease a muffin tin.
2. Sift together 1 3/4 cups of the flour, the sugar, salt, and baking powder. Cut in the butter with 2 knives or a pastry blender.
3. In a small bowl, whisk together the egg and buttermilk and pour into the dry ingredients. Stir together until just combined. It will be lumpy.
4. Toss the berries in the remaining 1/4 cup flour and fold very gently into the batter. Fill the muffin cup to the top and sprinkle generously with sugar, cinnamon, and oats.
5. Bake for 20-25 minutes or until a knife comes out clean. Serve warm.

Stephanie at the Ferry Plaza Farmers' Market Berry Festival. Photos by Christina Vickory

Doing a cooking demonstration for strangers is part Food Network, part Comedy Central. The first time I tossed a salad in front of an audience, at the Ferry Plaza Farmers' Market back in 2001, I was very nervous. Would my knife skills be sneered at? Would I forget to add some crucial ingredient, or go blank in the middle of an explanation of whisking or macerating?

Former Bay Area pastry chef David Lebovitz set my mind at ease. "Make them laugh! They just want to be entertained; no one's going to be watching what you do," he said, just before going out in front of the crowd and doing just that. Yes, on that day, if you watched carefully, you could learn how David made his truly excellent brownies, plus a dried-fruit compote with which to dress them up. But mostly, David made the crowd laugh. They had a good time with him, and what could make a brownie taste better?

So that's what I try to do, make 'em laugh--in between pleading with them to buy fresh baking powder, use a microplane for grating orange rind, and stop storing the spices over the stove (where they dry out and turn to dust so tasteless than no one could pick the rubbed sage from the smoked paprika).

But man, sometimes you guys are a tough crowd, clutching your xeroxed recipe sheets, staring up at the counter with all the enthusiasm of an after-lunch trigonometry class on the last day before summer vacation. Are you simply in it for the samples? Or do all my attempts to squeeze a little Liz Lemon into the soup just fall flat?

Be that as it may, I was booked as the talent yesterday at CUESA's Berry Celebration, down at the Saturday Ferry Plaza Farmers' Market. So, a joyful reason to cook with berries was in order.

Now, in my house, "cooking with berries" rarely happens. Why? Because the berries go fast from carton to mouth. Sometimes they make it into the cereal bowl or the pancake batter; once a summer there is blueberry pie. In my opinion, cream is the only embellishment a perfect raspberry needs, and the best blackberry is the winey, sun-warmed one you pick yourself from a dusty tangle at the side of the road.

However, topping a bowl of Grape-Nuts with blueberries, or mashing them down into a bowl of vanilla ice cream, is a little short on the show biz a cooking demo requires. No, what I needed here was a little song, a little dance, a little seltzer down your pants...or in this case, a sassy how-to for Double Berry Shortcake, with warm orange-scented biscuits layered with triple-berry jam, honey whipped cream, and fresh berries.

Now, the first thing to know about making biscuits is that they die young. A warm biscuit fresh from the oven is a heavenly thing. A few hours later, meh. Starch and butter, never a bad thing, but nothing for which to thank your mama and the good Lord for bringing you into the world and giving you a mouth. So, for best results, bake your biscuits not more than an hour or two before serving. If you can get them to the table still slightly warm, all the better. (Blazing-hot biscuits will melt the whipped cream, however, so do let them cool for at least 15 minutes or so before using.)

The second thing is that baking powder, too, has a shelf life, and if you bought it three boyfriends ago, you need to splash out and spend the buck and a half to get a new container. There's an expiration date on the bottom of the can. Heed it.

Finally, the box grater. Mostly these are useless, except to grate carrots for carrot cake or potatoes for latkes. But they have one more use, as I remembered just minutes before Saturday's little show-and-tell. Rub your cold, firm stick of butter through the big holes into your bowl of flour, and you'll get a near-instant, pastry-perfect mix. Keep your hands gentle and your touch light, and stamp out your biscuits with a wavy-edged biscuit cutter for the cutest final product.

As for the berry filling, you can make it with any mixture of raspberries, blackberries, blueberries, ollalieberries, or marionberries. The secret? Quick-cooking tapioca. It thickens the berries up without any tell-tale lumps or bumps, giving it the texture of perfectly gelled pie filling. If you have any extra berry filling, spoon it into a clean jar, refrigerate and use within a couple of weeks. Because of the tapioca thickener, it should not be sealed in canning jars for room-temperature storage like regular homemade jam. If you've never used tapioca before, look for the little red box of Minute brand next to the boxes of Jell-O.

(And then save the rest to make Heidi Swanson's creamy tapioca pudding, on a night when nothing but sweet eggy custard will soothe your battered soul.)

As for the cream, you'd be surprised what goes into the average carton of supermarket cream, from mono- and di-glycerides to carrageenan. Instead, look for the Clover organic or Straus organic heavy cream, both made of fresh, dairy-sweet local cream and nothing but.

And finally, when it comes to the berries, be as generous as you can. Blueberries for Sal! Tayberries for You! Berries, berries everywhere! You cannot have too many.

Double Berry Shortcake with Honey Cream

Light, fluffy biscuits get layered with a jammy berry filling, drenched with honey-sweetened whipped cream, and topped with more fresh berries.

Serves 6 to 8, depending on size of biscuits

For Shortcake Biscuits:
2 cups all-purpose white flour, preferably unbleached
1/2 cup cornmeal
1/4 cup sugar
2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
grated rind of 1 orange
8 TB (1 stick or 1/2 cup) butter, chilled
1 egg
1/2 cup milk plus 1 TB (you may need slightly more or less)

For Berry Filling:
2 TB water
1 TB quick-cooking tapioca, such as Minute brand
juice of half a lemon
1/2 cup sugar
2 cups mixed berries, such as blueberries, raspberries, and blackberries
2 tsp Chambord or cassis liqueur, optional

For Honey Cream:
1/2 pint heavy (whipping) cream
1 TB honey, or to taste
a few drops of orange extract or orange liqueur (such as Grand Marnier), or 1/4 tsp grated orange rind, optional

For Assembly:
2 to 3 cups mixed fresh berries

1. To make shortcake biscuits: Preheat oven to 400°F. Lightly grease a round cake pan.

2. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, cornmeal, sugar, baking powder, and salt.

3. Using a box grater, grate chilled butter into flour mixture. (You can also pulse ingredients together in a food processor until just pebbly.) Toss buttter-flour mixture together lightly, until butter is covered with flour and evenly mixed throughout.

3. Measure 1/2 cup milk in a glass measuring cup, then break in egg and beat together. Drizzle over flour mixture and mix gently into a soft dough. If dough seems dry, add additional milk as needed.

4. Turn out onto a floured countertop or cutting board. Pat into an even 1-inch-thick round. Using a floured biscuit cutter or the rim of a small drinking glass, cut out 6 to 8 biscuits (number may vary depending on the size of your cutter). Fit biscuits into cake pan, sides touching.

5. Bake 15-20 minutes, until tops are pale gold. Remove from baking sheet and let cool on a rack.

6. To make quick berry filling: In a small, heavy-bottomed pot, mix water, tapioca, lemon juice, sugar, and berries together. Over medium-low heat, bring to a simmer. Simmer, stirring frequently, until berries have collapsed and mixture is deep purple and jammy, about 10 minutes. Remove from heat. Let cool (it will thicken as it cools) and refrigerate until needed. Stir in liqueur before serving, if desired.

7. To make honey cream: Pour cream into a chilled bowl and whip with a whisk or hand-held electric mixer until beater begins to leave traces on the surface of the cream. Add honey and extract or rind if desired. Continue beating until cream is thick enough to mound up on a spoon.

8. To assemble shortcakes: Using a small sharp knife, split biscuit. Put bottom half on biscuit in a shallow bowl. Spread with a generous spoonful of preserves. Top with some fresh berries and a spoonful of cream. Top with top half of biscuit, more cream and fresh berries. Repeat with remaining biscuits.

Summer is a tricky thing in San Francisco. A morning in July here often feels like a morning in February, much to the consternation of shivering tourist. We grab what sun we can two days here, three days there, until the fog rolls in and we're grabbing our sweaters and pashminas instead, shrugging our pasty shoulders all the while. If one never leaves the City, one has but few clues as to what life is like on the hot, sticky Outside. And I like that just fine.

I always know it's summer when I see berries flooding the markets. I grab baskets of them-- strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, blackberries, snozberries-- and challenge myself to eat them all before they rot in my fridge, which happened last year, much to my shame. I decorate my cereal with them, never quite looking as well-placed as on the cereal boxes I never buy. I pretend I'm putting them in the wood chipper as I drop them into my blender to make smoothies. I sprinkle them over ice cream. I eat them out of hand.

If I want to put a little effort (and I do mean little) into doing something with berries, this year, I'm making berry pudding, one of the easiest and reasonably healthiest desserts around. If I were forced to give this dish human form, I would vote for Betty White. Rose Nyland-sweet, Sue Ann Nivens-tart, and just about as quick and clever as all Miss White's snappy answers on The Match Game. Put a little whipped cream on her and she's good to go. She's always good to go.

This is a recipe that is wonderfully simple in both preparation and outlook. Berries in, berries out. I was going to say it was easy- breezy but, unless eating raw fruits has a certain effect on your G.I. tract, it is merely easy. The only real time involved is the time the berries and bread must spend in the refrigerator, getting to know each other.

Berry Pudding

Many of the recipes I've read for Berry Pudding call for the berries to be cooked with sugar. I strongly object. Not to the sugar, mind you, but to cooking the berries. One might as well be using frozen fruit, and that, my friends, is a capital "C" crime in my book-- at least in high season.

I might suggest letting your berries ripen a bit before making them into pudding. They will thank you for it.

Serves: 4

Ingredients:

1/2 cup strawberries, chopped
1/2 cup blueberries, whole
1/2 cup raspberries, whole
1/2 cup blackberries, whole
2 tablespoons sugar, taste the berries to determine their sweetness before adding sugar. Adjust accordingly.
8 one half-inch slices of white bread, brioche, or other neutral starchy vehicle, cut to the shape of whatever molds one is using.
A splash of complementary booze (blackberry brandy, Cointreau, etc.) Complementary as in "will complement the flavor of the berries", not complimentary, as in "free". Of course, if your alcohol is both complementary and complimentary, I say bravo to you.
A pinch of salt

Preparation:

1. Wash berries well, but gently. Chop strawberries to the approximate size of the other berries. Place all berries into large bowl and sprinkle with sugar, salt, and booze. Let sit for five or so minutes.

2. After the berries have macerated a bit, lightly crush them. I feel I was a bit too excited when it came time to inflict harm upon mine. Stir.

3. Cover the bottoms of your molds with your most attractive bits of berry, since this will be the top of the dessert when it is unmolded. Place one piece of bread on top. Add more berries, a second layer of bread, then more berries.

4. Cover tightly with plastic wrap, pressing gently down upon the filled molds to remove any major air gaps.

5. Refrigerate for at least four hours or overnight.

6. To unmold, gently run the tip of a sharp knife between the outer edge of the filling and the inner edge of the mold. Hopefully, you have been clever enough to have removed the plastic wrap before doing so. Place serving plate over the top of the mold, invert, and gently giggle the pudding free of its form. Repeat with the remaining puddings, if you are serving them all at once.

7. Top with whipped cream, ice cream, or bacon. Whatever makes you happy.