Some people have various fruits and berries growing all over their property. They just need to go outside and pick some. (I’m looking at you, Kristin.) Some of use have to drive over an hour each way to go to pick-your-own blueberry farms. We tell the kids it’s a fun outing, but really we’re just bringing them along for the child labor.
And you know what? Kids have no stamina when it comes to walking around an orchard picking berries from above your head. You’d think they could have told me that in advance.
So this past weekend we headed out to Pennline Farm in Pierpoint. There we met Carol, who was helping her mother Barbara run things. Carol brought us a bunch of milk jugs with the tops cut off, and some lengths of rope to tie them to our waists.
Then she told us what we’d find, including: several varieties, some of which had a slight cinnamon flavor; a loudspeaker playing bird calls to keep other birds out of the field (this scared the crap out of Jenn when it went off just above her head); and — if we looked really carefully — some blackberry vines mixed in with a couple of the blueberry bushes.
And the berries were looking good.
I was reaching in to grab a berry when I noticed a couple of Japanese beetles … umm … occupied on the stem right where I was about to grab.
Jenn found the blackberries. Check out the thorns on those things.
I tried one of the red ones. Holy cow, were they tart.
About an hour-and-a-half in, I was a bit past a half-gallon.
And the girls were tired of playing migrant laborer for the day. So we went and said “Hi” to Carol’s dog, Ginger I think was her name.
Carol tried to get Ginger in the picture, but she kept laying down. Tough life she’s got.
See that spec in the distance there? That’s Heather, who brought us out to the farm. Thanks, Heather!
On the way out we saw the wild turkeys.
Just after I got this shot of Mama and a chick, Papa and the other five siblings ran across before I could get the camera back up.
So what was our total haul? A bit more than a gallon.
Washed, and dried overnight …
… and into some zip-top bags in the fridge.
We’ll be doing some smoothies, some ice cream, then freezing the rest. There’s no way we can go through this much before they go bad.
If you want to do any picking, look up Pennline Farm and call ahead. They had a late frost this year, so the harvest is way down. You don’t want to get all the way out there and everything was just picked over.
Want more like this? For more recipes like this, that you can hold right in your hands, and write on, take notes, tear pages out if you want (Gosh, you're tough on books, aren't you?) you might be interested in How To Cook Like Your Grandmother, 2nd edition, Illustrated. Or to learn your way around the kitchen, check out Starting From Scratch: The Owner's Manual for Your Kitchen.
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6 Comments
My husband planted a few blueberry bushes in May. I don’t know if they’re going to bear fruit; they’re still too small this year. I’m afraid he’s dreaming, but who am I to say? I’ll keep buying blueberries at the Farmers’ Market where they’re fresh and inexpensive.
Carol told us you have to plant at least two bushes, and they have to be two different varieties, or they won’t bear fruit. I hope your husband knew that when he planted them.
So true. My kids are whining after 3 minutes and then go sit in the A/C van. Too funny!
I have several comments:
1) I hate picking blueberries. They’re so damn small that it takes forever to fill a container. As you discovered.
2) Yeah, you like those blackberry thorns? Now you know what I’m dealing with when I enter the blackberry brambles to harvest.
3) Why in the world would you eat a red blackberry? Even the ripe ones are tart.
4) Our mulberries are all gone. Boo.
The blue berries you picked looked pretty big, not like the tiny east coast varieties. Out here in WA they can get pretty big, and when @ the peak, the picking is pretty easy. What about jam? And I leave the kids @ home, so I can zone out and enjoy the peace and quiet.
Liz,Carol told us that berries can stay blue on the vine for up to a month. The larger they get, the sweeter they get. Maybe on the east coast they pick them sooner because of the shorter season.
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