Late morning berry picking is not for the faint of heart. Kneeling and crouching in the August sun with the bees subtly reminding you that you’re on their turf now.
I recently discovered the magical stress relieving properties of berry picking. Out in the hot sun my skin felt like it was crying and with each drop of sweat that tumbled down, my worries washed away and with each warm ripe berry, I felt new again.
After a day or so of forgoing meals for handfuls of berries, I noticed my pint of vanilla gelato was pleading for raspberry sauce and my loaf of fresh-baked bread was begging for raspberry jam. The main difference between the two is consistency; sauce is thin, and jam is cooked longer, making it thicker. I cooked 1 ½ cups of berries and ¾ cup of sugar in a pot for about 20 minutes. It came closer to a jam and it found a home smeared on the bread and dolloped on the gelato.
I hid in the pantry and enjoyed every bite. See I have little ice cream scavenger people who hang on my legs, holding tiny spoons, begging to dip their little paws in my bowl. As much as I love my little ice cream scavenger people, and as much as I encourage sharing, there are moments in time, when I just want to eat my own bowl of gelato.
With raspberry jam.