Bake and Shake: A collection of treats: Mini Peach Pies and Italian Plum Bars

"The other plums shunned him because of his butt chin. It's not right. I've called their mothers."

Note: I wrote this after drinking a beer and sitting in the dark and listening to Tegan and Sara one evening at dusk, in my childhood home. As if you wouldn't have figured that out by yourself, by the end of this. Forgive me. I know. I'm ashamed for myself. This is the last Creative Non-Fiction 101/A Very Special Grey's Anatomy post for the near future.

Fruit trees are not unusual in my neighborhood. Every yard, for the most part, has at least one -- Apple (Granny Smith or Braeburn), Italian Plum/Prune, Sour Cherry, Rainier Cherry, Chokecherry or Black Plum. This is a throwback from when the lots were all part of larger pastures and small orchards. If you live in one of the original, older homes you're lucky and you've usually got the best plots and trees, ones that are reliable, mature, and bear edible fruit. Our neighbors, who have a beautiful Craftsman bungalow, have a Sour Cherry and it hurts my heart.

When the pastures were divided up, starting in the late seventies, the first new homes were given thoughtful planning (later homes were lucky if they got a fir or two, an ornamental plum or a transplanted maple). Our family's lot has not only fruit trees, but firs and a huge cedar as well. We used to have an apple tree, a giant one with a huge knot hole in the middle of the trunk, like in picture books, but that was cut down, split, stacked and used to fire us through a winter - my parents had divorced, it was one of the coldest on record, my mom was a little bewildered, and then the furnace broke. My sisters and I would bundle up each evening and carry up a mossy, slick log for the wood stove. But before that, the apple tree was just a nuisance, the fruit sour and angry and pockmarked with worms by the time it fell. It made the air smell wonderful around mid-September, though, sweet and mellow.

We still have Italian plum and pear trees, most notable for their height, and the way the ripe fruit will wake you up in the middle of the night as it tumbles down the shingles and into the gutters, or crackling leaves below. This is only the first or second year, though, out of almost twenty, where the pears have ripened and grown heavy enough to be looked at as viable -- this is also horrible, because the fruit is clustered high, high, high up. But the plums still bow down their lower branches.

Plums. Plums. Plums. The tree is fecund. It has been for almost two weeks. No one seems to care. The neighbors aren't harvesting their share of overlap fruit, we haven't been out there once (I made a trip a week or two ago, they were still a little too green). And so this morning my youngest sister traipsed out and came back with a bowl of them. Dusky, foggy purple skins that are almost ready to split, little beads of golden sap pricking the surface of some, the small ovals are not what most people expect when they think plum. They're a prune, really, and they are gorgeous and sweet and I remember eating them and eating them for years. They seemed so much bigger, and then I realized my hands were smaller then. We tried to sell them to the neighbors, even though they had their own trees. My mom tried to make freezer jam with them once, but it didn't work.

So today I decided to cook with them for the first time, and while I had jam in mind I didn't think I had enough from this initial harvesting. Deb's Blueberry Crumb Bars had hovered in my mind for almost a week, and I don't think anyone would turn down a plum version. But here's where it gets a little funny.

I had a Yakima Valley peach literally heaving on my counter. It was so soft, fuzzy and fragrant that I didn't know what to do, I felt like one person eating it would be unfair. So I decided to use some of the crust/crumble mixture to fashion small little pies. I hoped for four, ended up with three, and they were the best thing I've made all summer. You had a great peach to crust ratio, very little goop, a little spice to keep it interesting, and they were so nice and easy to eat with your hands because of the short pastry crust. They were so, so delicious and if I find another source for excellent local peaches I will revamp and repost the recipe -- right now, I'll include what I did so that you can experiment too if you like.

The bars are lovely too. Hot, wine-y pink juices bubble up and gel around the edges, the top toasts and the buttery flavor is so terrific against the slightly astringent fruit filling. A good ice cream or vanilla gelato only makes it better.

And if you see these dripping trees in your neck of the woods, untended, ignored, on public land, please take from them. I've been following Dutch's tales of found fruit, and it makes me happy and sad. There are so many incredible, very old fruit trees that are dripping with stuff right now, and for some reason people aren't into harvesting. Like for instance, the apple trees outside of that random office building, or the hazelnuts in that random lot, if you aren't afraid, go for it. I'll probably be there too. We can talk about what we're going to steal next.

Mini Peach Pies and Italian Plum Bars
I used an ungreased 8x8 light-colored pan for the bars, and the Plum filling recipe below worked out just fine for that measurement. For a 9x9, add a few extra quartered plums, a 9x13 (which would use all of the dough) I'd use 24 plums and 3/4 cup of sugar, 1/4 cup of flour, juice from a whole lemon, and 1/2 a vanilla bean.

The Mini Peach Pies were baked in a Muffin Top pan I have, and rarely use. But it's shallow, 3 1/2 inch indentations are PERFECT for mini pies, in my opinion. As stated, I got an 8x8 pan of bars and 3 mini tarts out of the dough recipe. Experiment, though, and play around.

Dough
1 cup granulated sugar
3 cups AP flour (Thank you, Emily!)
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, cubed
1 egg
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
Zest from half a lemon

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Whisk together the sugar, flour, lemon zest, baking powder and salt. Cut in the cubed butter until pea-sized bits remain throughout the now crumbly mixture, with knives, a fork or pastry-cutter. Stir in the egg, then pat the mixture down (I used a measuring cup to tamp down the bottom layer of dough) in your respective pans. Fill with fruit filling of your choice, and divide the crumb mixture evenly across the top. Bake at 375 for 15 minutes (pies) to 40 minutes (bars, check after 30), or until golden brown, and juices bubble.

Plum Filling
14 or so very ripe, clean Italian Plums
2 (heaping) TBS flour
1/2 cup granulated sugar (more or less, depending on the sweetness of your fruit)
1/4 teaspoon salt
Juice of 1/2 a lemon
1/4 vanilla bean, scraped, seeds only

Split each plum in half, twisting slightly if necessary to remove the pit (which should decamp very easily). Quarter the plum, and toss into a large bowl. Once all plums are prepped, add the flour, sugar, salt, lemon juice and vanilla bean seeds. Stir to combine, then pour into pan, top with remaining crumble, and bake as directed.

Peach Filling (for 2 or 3 mini 'pies')
One very large, very ripe peach (locally grown, if possible) -- mine was probably 6 or 7 inches around
2 TBS flour
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
Dash of salt
Juice of 1/2 a lemon
1/4 vanilla bean, scraped, seeds only

Skin the peach, you can blanch for 20 seconds in very hot water if necessary but with a really ripe peach and a paring knife you should be just fine, slice in half and remove pit. Slice each half into 10 or so thin slices. Toss in a bowl, add the remaining ingredients and stir to combine. Divide among crusts, top with remaining crumble and bake as directed.