Was at the sticks-n-bricks home this evening pining away for another slice of an excellent blueberry-cranberry pie I had the night before. I know. I’d make a blueberry cobbler from the can of blueberries I’d bought six months ago. If I liked it, I could make it, or something like it, on the road in our little travel trailer oven which has so far been unused.
I didn’t even think of how much baking powder the recipe called for when I poured the dough into the high pie pan. Spooned in the blueberries from the can and slid it in the oven. Forty minutes later I start to smell something. Still 20 minutes on the cobbler. What could it be?
The cobbler looked awful. An odd red with yellow splotches. It overran the pie pan and gobs were falling onto the heating element. Should I leave it there or stop the cooking and clean it up? The answer came when I opened the oven and a big blast of smoke hit my glasses. Darn, don’t want the fire alarm to go off. I opened the front door letting out precious heat I’d been accumulating through the cooking process. I scraped the soft goo off the oven floor and the racks. Wasn’t nearly as bad as I expected. However, the pan is going to have to wait.
Back in the oven for the last 20 minutes. A brief cool down and I ladled out an unhealthy serving. Yeah, taken from smack dab middle. It was a spontaneous moment.
The cobbler was lousy. It won’t be a recipe I’ll take on our travels. I probably will feed the rest to the doggy disposal. But I certainly will keep in mind the possible need for a drippings container in the bottom as we get use the new travel trailer oven.