It’s blackberry pickin’ time again.
Last year was my first time to pick blackberries and I couldn’t wait to go again this year. So, armed with some bug spray, sun screen, and some bottles of water, we set out for the farm to pick-pick-pick until we had enough to last for months in my freezer.
Was it ever hot the day we picked the berries. I picked about 12 lbs. before I finally said “uncle” and gave up. It was hot as blue blazes, but did I get some beauties! A couple were the size of a golf ball and I had those laid out on a plate alongside a golf ball to take a picture for you and before I could, someone in my house and I won’t say who (but there are only two of us here) ate the golfball size blackberries.
I don’t know about you, but when I go picking, whether it is strawberries, blackberries, blueberries or any other kind of fruit I seem to get really picky. I look for the plumpest berries I can find, stopping occasionally to pop one or two into my mouth. I don’t think I have ever seen a sign that says “no tasting”. If there were such a sign I would just hold my breath on the way out and hope they don’t ask to see my tongue. If they did, they would find a tongue stained purple from the berries I have been sampling. You have heard of “taste test” haven’t you?
Why is it when we pick things ourselves the foods we prepare with our bounty seems so much better. I made my own peach preserves last year and can’t wait to do it again this year. Even though I don’t eat preserves that often, someone will benefit from my making it though I’m sure. I don’t ever use acronyms when texting or typing but for this recipe, all I can say is OMG this is a delicious recipe.
So on father’s day my husband had something more special than his bowl of Cheerios.