Your intrepid local eater spotted ripe blackberries on her walk to the pea patch yesterday. They’re the first of the season and all signs point towards the usual bumper crop. The first berry I popped in my mouth was sour as the dickens, enough to remind me the best ones fall off their stems with a gentle tap. The second one, selected more thoughtfully, tasted like sunshine. Blackberries grow with such wild abandon around here — you’re likely to find them in any vacant lot or public space, the prickly chartreuse branches cascading over one another. The canes can be such pests that our pea patch is hosting a work party just to hack them back, but we’re holding off until the fruit is done.
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August 13, 2008 at 10:19 am
Finspot
Took the kids picking yesterday. Funny thing how those Himalayan blackberries never suffer the vicissitudes of Seattle weather the way tomatoes do. We got three sand pales full. Lots of face painting and war dancing. Then the final descent into full-on blackberry war and I knew it was time to get them home. I’ll have the results–cobbler–posted on FOTL soon.
August 16, 2008 at 9:15 am
sally
A friend brought a jar of just made wild blackberry jam for my birthday. Honestly, I can’t think of a better gift. Between the two of you I am reminded to get in gear, pick some and make even a small batch. There are some just down the street – doesn’t every neighborhood have such a patch or two?
August 16, 2008 at 9:26 pm
audrey
Fin, it’s hard to argue with blackberry cobbler. I like mine with peaches. I’ll be interested to see your recipe.
Sally, I’m glad you mentioned jam. It makes so much more sense to do that then to freeze and forget the way we’ve done it before. What a good thing to give a friend, too.