My Story

 

Growing up in South Georgia was a wonderful experience. Each summer I stayed at my grandmother’s farm, which had lots of fruit trees, berry bushes and a wonderful garden where she grew most of her food. I remember she had bushels of pears, plums, peaches, and garden vegetables that would be canned, or made into preserves for the winter months when food didn't grow so much. We would sit together peeling the peaches and I would sneak a bite or two every now and then; the peaches were always very plump, juicy and sweet. She would then separate them into different piles, some for preserves, some to be canned, and some reserved for making cobbler.  I watched her roll out the dough for the crust, then cook the fruit on her wood burning stove top until it blended all of the flavors and was tender. She would then combine her mixture and roll out her strips of dough, creating this spicy sweet concoction of delicious cobbler while I watched, hoping I would get to lick the spoon and sop the remaining mixture in the mixing pan. The smell in the whole house was the delicious pungent aroma of cinnamon, nutmeg, and vanilla! I watched her remove a beautiful golden brown cobbler from that wood burning oven and, after eating our veggies and cleaning our plates, we would enjoy homemade cobbler, sometimes topped with hand-churned ice cream.


I promised myself that I would learn to make beautiful delicious pies and cobblers just like my grandmother Iva, and over the years I practiced and finally developed a recipe that I think is pretty close to what my mother and grandmother used to make this wonderful delicious cobbler.


Enjoy a slice!


Evelyn