Blueberries

As much as I had wanted to do it, Samantha and I never made it to any of the pick-your-own farms at all last year.  We had picked peaches the year before, and she had done quite well, so I decided that now, at the height of blueberry season, we should try to find a farm.  Two weekends ago, we looked a few local farms up on the internet, but for one reason or another, didn't get a chance to go.  Last weekend was just too busy.  So late on Friday night, driving back to my father's farm in New Jersey after my high school reunion, we passed a Pick-Your-Own Blueberries sign.  Excited, I made a note of the location, and decided I'd try to get there the next morning.

To me, blueberries have always been hit or miss.  I guess I had been burned by bitter berries too many times and blueberries were not high on my list of favorites.  But in the last two years, our Giant supermarket has carried New Jersey blueberries, and they have been delicious.  Truly amazing.  Completely changed my mind about them.  And to be honest, I'm not really sure if I ever really ate blueberries much as a kid growing up in New Jersey, or if I did, maybe they just weren't bred yet to be as sweet and perfect as they are today.  But I have no memories of really liking them much.

After breakfast on Saturday, we drove to where we had seen the sign.  It was a completely deserted road, leading to a seemingly deserted nursery.  We flagged down a farm worker on a tractor and asked him about the blueberries, and he pointed to an even more deserted-looking dirt road leading into the trees beyond the nursery fields.  After a few lame jokes about the movies "Wrong Turn" and "Deliverance," followed by some nervous laughter, we came to a house and the signage we'd been looking for.  Standing on the porch were three women talking.  Steve and Samantha stayed in the car while I approached them to make sure the farm was open for berry-picking today.  As I got closer, I realized that two of the women were purchasing buckets full of blueberries, and just as I opened up my mouth to say "good morning," I realized that one of the women was one of my childhood friends!  I had seen her for the first time in a while just a few months ago when Samantha and I were up for a visit before, but had decided not to contact her this time because I didn't know what our timetable was going to look like.  Oh, how I love randomness and coincidences.  Makes you realize how small the world really is.

The owner of the farm was so welcoming, showing us which field was to be used today and pointing out some fresh cake and bottled water on the porch, telling us to help ourselves.  She was particularly enamored of Samantha, engaging her in conversation, getting her to warm up immediately.  I'll write more about her in my next post... 

 Sammi started to help us pick berries, but then began to complain that she had to use the potty.  As she had just gone before we left the house, I suspected that it was all a ruse to get out of doing something she didn't want to do.  Two trips back to the house to use the bathroom there (thank you to our gracious host who allowed us to use the one inside instead of the porta-john outside), and I was satisfied that she really did have to go...  Great job, Sammi, for taking the wearing of panties very seriously (we're heading into Week 2 without pull-ups at all!  Yay, we're done!!!).

About 3 lbs. of big, sweet New Jersey blueberries and less than $4.00 later (are you kidding me???), we thanked the woman with promises to return for other crops in the near future, and departed to get Sammi back to the house for a nap.

I've been scouring the internet for some easy blueberry recipes, and have frozen a good portion of the batch (well, what's left of the batch after snacking...).  Looking forward to blueberry season next year already!