Berry picking

What could be more delicious than eating fresh ripe blueberries straight off the bush? Try this recipe: driving up to the country, meeting friends, picking and eating blueberries straight off the bush, watching three dogs romp around a gigantic field as the sun sets and the fireflies light up, drinking wine and eating homemade tarts and ice cream. That was the recipe for Amber and me (with Mattingly and Leeloo in tow) on Saturday. We’d been invited to the family to the homestead of Susan, one of Amber’s oldest friends.

Amber and Susan and their friend Emily have been picking blueberries and raspberries at that house since they were little. In fact berry-picking was one of Susan’s chores growing up. I was almost jealous because it sounded like a great chore…. then I remembered how much I hated making my bed, and that’s much less taxing.

The girls’ rule was Pick Two, Eat One. I fought hard to stick to that, but I needn’t have worried: together with her mother, Susan had prepared some amazing tarts and homemade ice cream in three flavors. (Dinner was a delicious vegetarian paella.) I consumed a Violet Beauregard level of blueberries. The stars shone brightly in the clear country night as we loaded our happily bushed dogs into the rental car and drove home.


I can’t wait to work these into our oatmeal and pancakes. It’ll be delicious. What other recipes we should try? I’m throwing the floor open to suggestions.

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