Magic And Cobbler — Pampered Chef’s Covered Baker


It’s interesting to me that, whenever I write about cooking, I never actually have an original picture to go with the blog post. It’s not that I don’t make things that look good (though I’ll admit I’ve made an ugly cake or two), it’s that, when I cook, I rarely wait long enough to take a picture before making sure the taste is OK.

So I don’t have a picture of my Magic Pot cobbler. Alas.

I’ve written before about Pampered Chef’s “Magic Pots” — the larger Deep Covered Baker and the smaller Round Covered Baker, and how I’ve used them to make, among other things, cake. (You can use the bakers in the microwave, freezer and oven, and in the microwave; the results are basically like oven baking at microwave speeds, which is sort of awesome. With them, you can microwave casseroles, cakes, chicken breasts, and on and on.)

At my last Pampered Chef team meeting, someone brought a cobbler to share, and the discussion turned to how, theoretically, you should be able to bake the cobbler in the microwave.

I love cobbler, so it was pretty much a given that as soon as the idea was spoken it was going to happen.

And it did, and it was awesome.

I have an easy cobbler recipe that I’ve used many times in the conventional oven, and it works just as well in the microwave with the baker. I’ve made three cobblers now with the baker — blackberry, peach and blueberry — and can go from not started to eating in about 20 minutes.

The recipe is not mine, but I’ll share it anyway:

1 stick butter or margerine
1 cup self-rising flour
1 cup sugar
1 cup milk
2 cups fruit

Melt butter in microwave in covered baker. Add flour, sugar and milk, and mix until lumps are gone. Add fruit. Microwave for about 12 minutes (cooking time will vary by microwave.)

This, let me say, produces a simple and tasty cobbler.

But, by accident last week, I made it even tastier.

Cobbler, I firmly believe, needs ice cream. There’s just something about the combination of hot fruit cobbler and cold vanilla ice cream.

But, when I made the blueberry cobbler, I pulled it out of the microwave and realized that I had no vanilla ice cream in the house. This is bad.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

I had no vanilla ice cream, but I did have some chocolate that I’d bought for making milk shakes. We briefly debated where this would be acceptable or untoward, and decided the only way to find out was to try it.

Chocolate ice cream on blueberry cobbler, it turns out, is quite agreeable indeed.

And now you know.


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It’s Cobblerin’ Time!


Among the things I’ve done in the past week:

— I went backstage at a Jewel concert, having been chosen as an official blogger for the concert by the tour’s sponsor
— When I blogged about the experience, I set a new traffic record for my blog and got a response from Jewel herself
— I met with the head of the National Space Society’s policy committee to discuss his thoughts on current events
— I reobtained the second copy I ever had of my first book
— I generated dozens of pages of text for my second book
— I acted in an improv comedy show, which was hilarious
— I ordered a new iPhone
— I made blackberry cobbler

It says something about my life that the item in that list that stands out the most to me is the last one. I’ve never made blackberry cobbler before. It was kind of exciting to actually do it.

It was sad how happy it made me. But, one, it was good. Two, I am so unhandy in the kitchen it’s unreal. This was incredibly easy to make; I mean, unbelievably easy to make, and yet I was disproportionately proud of it because I am so incompetent in this area. But, in its way, making the cobbler was also liberating and redemptive.

I told the story the other day of why I had to make it — my friend Heather wanted to make a bet as to whether Jewel would play Sweet Home Alabama at her concert Sunday. Seemed reasonable to me she would; she didn’t. The stake was that the loser would bring cobbler to work, and so on Friday I did. I actually made two; the first to make sure I could do it, the second to take to work.

I have a long history with blackberry cobbler. It’s kind of a favorite, and, for me, with my general disdain for favorites, that’s saying something. My ex-wife, Nicole, loved it, and that wore off on me. After the divorce, that was kind of a negative association, but my ex-fiancée brought it into our relationship very early and sort of redeemed it for me. And, unlike Nicole, she actually made it herself. Not bad, either. The end of that relationship cast shadows on blackberry cobbler again, but not to the same extent, since it was no longer something associated with one particular person or epoch.

So when Heather and I made the bet, part of me actually hoped to lose. I figured it would be a good opportunity for me, providing motivation to do something that would be good for me to do. And, really, it was. I can now have homemade blackberry cobbler whenever I want, without needing anyone to make it. (Over a year ago, when I became a hot redhead and went to prom with Marshall Space Flight Center’s resigning director I wrote a post talking about how I accidentally once declared that I wanted to become the woman of my dreams. Cobbler baking was a big step toward that.) And, to be honest, the two cobblers I made this week were more consistently good than hers was, though that’s partially because the recipe was so unambitious.

And, it’s redemptive. My latest association I have with blackberry cobbler is very positive, something I’m proud of, and something nobody can take from me later.

So hooray for the redemptive power of tasty blackberry cobbler!

If anyone’s interested, I’ll share the incredibly ridiculously easy recipe I used, largely because of how incredibly unlikely the idea of me blogging a recipe is:

1 stick butter or margarine
1 cup self-rising flour
1 cup sugar
1 cup milk
2 cups fruit

Heat oven to 350 degrees. Melt butter in glass 8-by-10-inch pan or 2-quart casserole. Mix flour, sugar and milk until lumps are gone. Pour batter into butter. Place fruit on top. Bake 35 to 40 minutes. Makes 9 servings.

Like I said, sad how proud I am of that, but there you go.