My good friend, Cindy, posted on Facebook that she and her family had going blueberry picking not too far from here. I thought that sounded like a great thing for all of us to do so on July 17, we jumped in the car and headed to Burbank.
Once we got to the field, we started walking down the rows and rows of bushes. Obviously, the rows closest to the roads had been picked pretty clean so we headed back. Way Back. And eventually came to blueberry heaven. Clusters and clusters of large, ripe blueberries. Large. Very large. So we picked...and picked...and picked. It was getting warmer as our pails filled, but that didn't deter us. Forty-five minutes later, we had LOTS of berries. Though we picked in excess of 20 pounds, we only brought 16 pounds back with us.
After arriving home, I started sorting through the bags, tossing leaves, stems, and "friends" who hitched a ride. Within the first 24 hours, many were frozen and await being added to future recipes. Some were baked into muffins and pies. Still others were eaten "as is".
Can I just say that I never really was a blueberry fan before. I mean, I liked them but not necessarily enough to go out and buy them for much. Now, the blueberries we picked were fresh and sweet. As I ate them, their texture and color reminded me of a grape....not those purple blobs that you find in a muffin. When I had my first slice of homemade blueberry pie, I became a fan. At least, a fan of this blueberry pie. More telling was the fact that Nicholas (who isn't a huge pie fan...unless it's pumpkin) ate a slice then asked for a second! That pie didn't even last 24 hours. And the follow-on muffins were an even bigger hit.
We. Love. Blueberries.
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