An easy tutorial on how to make your own Homemade Blueberry Breakdown Pie! I admit that this pie has a few extra steps than my other recipes, but it’s worth it. This special pie uses just a few simple ingredients to create a sweet, delicious treat that turns out perfect every time (unless your aunt sees it and critiques the crust for being too dry and bland tasting). If your pie crust is too emotionally fragile at the moment, store-bought pie crust, which I’ll be using, is just as good.
Ingredients
- 1 cup of Brown Sugar
- 1 Black Therapist
- 1 dysfunctional family
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 2 therapists named Jessica (I recommend Jessica J. over the other Jessica since she’s more socially aware, but both will work in a pinch)
- 1 therapist with a mullet and art supplies
- 1 Egg
- ½ teaspoon cinnamon
- The memory of my neighbor’s wife being murdered
- Pinch of Salt
- 1 ½ Cup of Blueberries
- Pinch of flour
- An ex-boyfriend
- ½ cup of uncooked oats
- ⅓ cup all-purpose flour
- ⅓ cup brown sugar and the sweet aroma mixed with vanilla, helping you believe in God again
- 1 therapist that has the gentleness of Mr. Rogers
- ⅓ cup granulated sugar
- 1 teaspoon of cinnamon
- The smell of rosemary and the hope you become a mother one day (optional)
- ½ stick of unsalted butter, cold and cut into cubes
- A hobby such as watercolor painting, knitting, or gardening to distract your mind from the darkness that creeps inside it
Note: For the therapist ingredients, I love to collect them during the fall or spring times, usually when I notice my life falling apart. I recommend getting a therapist before you’re in crisis mode since the flavors are exquisite during those times and not as turbulent. I, personally, avoid therapists named Athena who like to arrive late to sessions.
Instructions
- Preheat oven to 375 F.
- To make the filling, mix all the ingredients in a large bowl. Each of these ingredients plays a crucial role in creating a delicious Blueberry Breakdown pie. The dysfunctional family, ex-boyfriend, and the neighbor’s wife’s murder bring in a unique tartness, almost bitter, that the fragrant light blueberries can’t provide. The therapists help to enhance the flavor of the pie, bringing back the sweetness once lost. Therapists help the pie from completely collapsing in on itself. Do not forget to add the therapists or the pie will deflate, burn, and die.
a. When mixing the filling ingredients, make sure to not stir the pot. Family waters become turbulent when you do. Don’t talk to them about your therapy sessions or the trauma from your childhood. Keep a wall up but, if possible, one made out of chain links. If your family genuinely wants to listen, allow yourself to be open. Maybe give your aunt some grace. Learn to set proper boundaries and prioritize your own needs first. In the meantime, don’t have expectations that they will change, and continue working on your pie.
- Beat the ingredients together.
a. No, don’t use your fists on yourself!
- Play music or listen to a podcast to distract yourself from the bad memories.
a. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! I asked God to keep her safe, but I don’t think God works like that. The world then returns to silence. I write down all of the sounds, including the guttural screams of her husband and his telephone ringing in the distance, in the Notes app on my android. Five bullets, sirens, screams, and the world returned to stasis. I continued to do homework.
- Pour the filling mixture into the store-bought pie. Crimp the edges of the pie to give the appearance that you made it.
a. You’re good at giving the appearance that everything is all right, aren’t you? You were like that since a little girl, such a peculiar child. Everyone in your family says you were happy when you were a little girl, but you remember crying most days. Grabbing a sharpie drawing on your chubby brown body the parts you wanted to be cut off to look like the girls on television. Angry that mothers on television didn’t do drugs and had picnics with their daughters. Devastated that you couldn’t fix your family troubles in a blink of an eye like the woman in I Dream of Jeannie. You were an honor roll student throughout school, though; that’s the most important thing, right?
- Grab a smaller bowl for the crumble topping. Pour all of the crumble ingredients in that bowl and use a fork or your fingers to smoosh the cold butter together creating a soft crumbly mixture.
a. Remember the therapist that reminds you of Mr. Rogers gently telling you that she’s there to listen to you, and you immediately feel seen. Hold on to that feeling. You deserve to be listened to. While adding in the rosemary essence and your hopes of being a mother, whisper the name of the little Black child you want to raise, praying that you don’t repeat the mistakes and generational curses that your family has placed upon you. You are not your mother.
- Pour crumble on top of the pie and place the pie in the oven for an hour. Dance while you wait or listen to something soothing.
a. Does your ex-boyfriend remember pinning you down after you said “no” multiple times? Does he realize how emotionally abusive he was? Is it bad that I hope he is doing well? I hope he isn’t hurting anyone else. Whenever you tried breaking up with him, he threatened to kill himself. Turn the music louder love! Sometimes he would jump on the train tracks while you screamed at him to get off them. Remember to never fall in love with potential. Did you ever really love him, or did you like the idea of having someone who treated you temporarily kindly? Being treated kindly is the bare minimum. I’m glad his scent doesn’t linger in my home anymore. He still owes me money for the sandwich I bought him. I’m glad you broke up with him before he became physically violent. I’m proud that you escaped. He lied when he said that you’re not a fun person to be around. Thank God you didn’t have sex with him. I liked his cat, Capri, more.
- Take out your pie and let it rest for 10 minutes. Take note of its beauty and charming imperfections. You embrace those little brown bits from the blueberries bubbling over. The tips are slightly burnt, and there are delicate cracks throughout, but that’s fine. You are not broken. You laugh. You pull apart the buttery flakey layers. You deserve a big slice of pie. You know what, get yourself seconds; you deserve it! The smell of warm vanilla, brown sugar, and blueberries surround you, creating a home of hope and warmth. Your Blueberry Breakdown pie is delightful.
a. You are worthy of being loved.
Cover art: “One Small Step” by Ian Wells
