Cajun Blackberry Cobbler

Reader Contribution by Jonathan Olivier
Published on June 29, 2018
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“See those baby alligators,” I whispered, while motioning Brittney closer. On the side of a canal within the 1.4 million-acre Atchafalaya River Basin in south Louisiana, it was no surprise we found the reptiles lurking near the edge of the water. As she walked closer, Brittney spotted them as they slithered off while calling for their mother.

Problem was, we had just found a blackberry patch near the water’s edge, the only one producing after searching all afternoon as we dodged water moccasins. After a careful scan of the water, I felt it safe enough to venture deeper into the bush. I was lured farther down the bank by gobs of perfectly ripe berries. So many, in fact, that when you think you’ve picked most of them, looking from another angle uncovers a dozen or so more. That afternoon we ended up with around five pounds of berries with plenty of time to walk back before the sun set over the swamp.

“What should we do with the berries we don’t eat?” Brittney’s question was more rhetorical than anything, as we both knew very well we’d be making some sort of dessert. 

“How about a cobbler,” I copied, knowing there needn’t be an answer. Cobbler it was. 

Cajun Cobbler

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