Consider the blueberry. A plump, perfect package. A present in blue, as soft as a grape. There is nothing that would prompt me to move 4,000 miles across our wide country than a blueberry warmed by the sun and eaten directly from a bush.
We sought out these blue babies at Sunnyview Berry Farm at 5233 Sunnyview Rd. NE Salem, just a few miles from our city home. Sunnyview, which doesn’t use any chemicals, has been for sale for about three years now, but that hasn’t stopped the berries from growing and plumping every season for pick-your-own berries costing $1 a pound.
We weren’t the only people out in the field. We heard four languages spoken while we were there — Spanish, English, Russian and Vietnamese.
Blueberry-picking is a meditative and satisfying endeavor that happens at its own pace. If you are my husband, it takes a very, very long time. If you are me, it takes about an hour to pick 7 pounds.
I have been using a recycled plant box from Terra Gardens for my berrypicking — the staining pattern is like a diary charting my berrying adventures.
A full flat of blueberries is a precious thing. I am always afraid that I will trip over a stump and send them flying into the air in a hail of blue. Though that might be something to look at in itself.
This is the most stylish farmstand worker I have ever seen. Shortly before we paid she had pulled blueberry muffins out of the oven in this little shack. Our berries cost $7.35.
Blueberries, unlike their strawfolk and cherry brethren (no, they are not actually related, please don’t email), require little to no processing before consumption. No pits, no green hats, no problem.
I have since done much with my blueberry bash, but the very first product was a compromise of sorts. My husband is prone to pie, I crush on crumble.
So here you have it: Blueberry Crumble Pie. This picture is for my friend Nick Bergus, who has accused me of only including stylish and hip looking food pictures on this blog. This is the best I can do for a messy picture. Eat it, Nick!
If you are Wendell Berry, please consider letting me republish your berry poem here. It might be my second favorite poem in the world.
Here is a taste: “Better than any argument is to rise at dawn and pick dew-wet berries in a cup.”
Our old, old bushes in the backyard only receive a fourth of the sunlight they need, so their harvest is small. I surrender that small harvest to the birds. My payment is the entertainment I get from watching their berry picking techniques.
I love the name of this blueberry recipe!
http://smittenkitchen.com/2009/07/blueberry-boy-bait/
Hmmmmm, Drake and I can put down blueberries faster than any other. . . by the fistful!
Is that eating them or picking them… I spread out my gluttony. I like to pick for a while and then fill my face.
ahhh, loved it! made me go eat the carton of blueberries we have in my fridge. and that pie looks ahhhmazing. i hope to someday venture out to oregon, simply so i can go pick my own blueberries. can’t think of a better way to spend an afternoon.
You are welcome to visit anytime, especially in blueberry season!
I’m going after work!
I’m going back again too. We’re already out, 2 pies and a lot of fly-by handfuls later…
When we moved into this house in February 1999, the first thing I planted in the back yard was three blueberry bushes from Guentner’s. My husband’s approach to berry season here at home is markedly different from mine. I have the “berry work ethic,” every other day picking, washing, drying, freezing for some future use. My husband walks out the back door on a Saturday or Sunday morning, cereal bowl in hand, to get just enough for his breakfast. I briefly considered having a bad attitude about this, but it’s just too cute to hate. It’s like watching a little kid picking out his favorite candy, except the kid’s in his sixties and the candy is growing on bushes.
Now I’m coveting your pie dish; it does all that fancy edge work for you.
Thanks for that sweet image!
That pie dish is from my friends Bin and Sarah, who live just outside of NYC — wedding present. I believe it is from Williams and Sonoma.
And just a little hint for those of you growing your own blueberry bushes, which it sounds like there are a few, we discovered, quite accidentally, that blueberry bushes love oak leaves so in the fall, if you can get your hands on the leaves that have fallen or have some in your yard, spread the dead leaves around the base of the bushes as mulch and your bushes will love it.
Ooooh! Thank you for the tip! We’re going picking tomorrow…