We’re an apple picking family. I’ve gone apple picking every year since my first nephew was born – and that’s close to twenty years ago (!!!!). I’ve wandered around the apple orchard with my babies in slings and carriers, and nursed at least two of them in the hayride over to the orchard. I love apple picking. Love every little bit of it, the kids bombing around the orchard, picking apples and playing leapfrog. We always gather up a big group of people, and there’s kettle corn and apple cider donuts and tiny goats to feed. It’s a perfect fall activity, and the best way to get ready for Rosh Hashana.
We had never really done blueberry picking. There’s a whole world of berry picking out there, and we’ve been missing out.
We had a big day trip planned to Concord MA yesterday. I stopped at the synagogue for a meeting or two yesterday morning, and ran into our new rabbi and her family. When I heard that they were blueberry picking, and would love company – we rescheduled our day trip in favor of berries and trip to Dairy Queen afterwards.
This farm (Derrick Farm in Oakham) was perfect – it had little chairs set up in front of each bush, plastic coffee containers for little kids to fill with blueberries and bushes that were absolutely loaded full of berries. Big, fat, gorgeous blueberries. It was so much fun! The kids picked away (sadly unable to follow directions to stick with their assigned bushes – they’re too used to apple picking and couldn’t stop themselves from wandering around from bush to bush). I picked very few, but sat and chatted and ate. A lot. Turns out I really like blueberries.
Jessie came home and immediately started googling recipes. We found a really good blueberry cake recipe and baked it for Shabbat dessert last night. We gave a bunch of berries to Marc’s mom (Julie was especially proud to present them to her, firmly convinced that she had picked all of them herself) and I’m sure that we’re going to eat the remaining ones today.