When life gives you apricots...

This is an old post but is only just now being published. I apologize for the delay.

My boss has an apricot tree. It's getting a little out of hand.

He's using 2x4s to keep the branches from breaking. This is the most delicious problem I've ever heard of.

He was more than happy to bring me a bag of apricots, and I was more than happy to take them.

After scarfing a few (and trying not to get the juices everywhere), I did some quick chopping — just enough to remove the pits, but not the skins. I threw the quartered apricots into a saucepan, added white sugar, cornstarch (for thickening), and a little bit of cinnamon. Then I brought the mix to a boil, stirring and scraping a lot to make sure all that sugar didn't burn on the bottom.

When it had thickened, I removed it from the stove top and let it site to cool a little bit.

In a bowl I started the cobbler crust with all the good stuff: sugar, flour, butter, and cinnamon. (And baking powder to make it rise.) Yum.

I am fancy and used a pastry cutter to slice the butter into the flour mixture until it was crumby (but not blended like cookie dough). There is a fine art to crusts like this that I have neither mastered, nor am able to describe, but you're aiming for a mixture that isn't entirely one piece, but doesn't have a lot of flour dust floating around either. That is, you should be able to see where the butter hasn't combined with the flour (ie, there are cubes of butter hanging around), but most of the flour should stick to the butter.

I believe I've totally confused you. Carry on, and let's pretend like that last paragraph didn't happen.

With the cobbler crust crumbed, I added milk and mixed it all together. Now the crust was gooey and gross. And delicious.

The thickened apricots (and sugar) went into the bottom of a nine inch cake pan. Then they were joined by the crust, which I dropped in pieces rather unceremoniously on top. (Be assured, this is what you are meant to do.)

I covered the entire thing in a pleasant glaze of sugar because I hate my waistline and want to give people I know diabetes. Then I stuck it in the oven and the entire house smelled like yumminess.

The final result was a deliciously tart cobbler. The crust rose a little and spread across the entire pan, despite having gaps in it before baking. I took it to work and my coworkers scarfed it all down. A good team effort between my boss and myself, no?

You can find the recipe from Betty Crocker here. Just replace the peaches with apricots and you're ready to go!