Wednesday, July 26, 2006

Blueberry fields, found

Unable to choose one blueberry shot to represent a weekend’s worth of the fruit.

The blueberries of Grieg’s Farm, Red Hook were, to one raised picking the hard-scrabble wild-blueberries of Mt Desert Maine - basketballs all. The farmed species make their wild brethren look runt-y - I guess that's the point.

MH's new job amongst the lambs at Old Chatham Sheep Herding Company has given her excellent access to the news of the region. Last week's news: blueberry picking at Grieg's Farm. Like being directed to drop your lobster pots at a reunion of lobsters tracing roots to the Mayflower. Sort of.

With buckets strung 'round our hips, and a glimmer in R's eye (he admitted that when gathering foodtsuffs in childhood Bulgaria, each comrade's bucket would be emptied into the larger common bucket), we set forth.

Barely winded, we each filled buckets and returned home to marvel at our riches. And wonder what on earth another generation would have done - what winter-stock-laying-in we were ignoring.

Short on jam jars, we zip-locked, ate them a-la-mode and, Sunday morning, I made muffins. Only something like 5 lbs worth to be dealt with.

Here, in film strip, highlights...

C - blueberry

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