The Blueberry Incident
Sep. 1, 2009 10:15 pm
Updated: Sep. 15, 2009 7:24 pm
Everyone says it’s been a good season for blueberries in the Pacific Northwest, so Catherine (The Queen of Canning) and I ditched our families early one Saturday morning and met up at a local u-pick blueberry farm to satisfy our blueberry greed. Being an experienced u-picker, Catherine advised me to dress for success against sun exposure, prickly branches, and bugs. I wore a broad-brimmed hat. I wore a long sleeve shirt. I wore a mosquito-repelling wristband. But nothing could protect me against a swarm of wasps that rose up out of the grass and stung me silly.
Apparently my screams translated into wasp-speak as I think you missed a spot because they chased me down an avenue of blueberry bushes and kept up their attack like they were doing me a favor.
The only thing worse than wasps trying to tattoo you through your clothes would be an allergic reaction to their venom, but luckily we didn't go there.
To commemorate the unexpected turn of the day, I offer you Catherine’s Picked Blueberries
. There’s nothing sweet and jammy in this jar. No sir. After an overnight soak in spiced up red wine vinegar, the blueberries got topped with a sweet/tart syrup and canned for the winter. Catherine spooned pickled blueberries over a generous wedge of ripened goat cheese and served it as an appetizer, but I want to try it again this fall as a relish with roast duck or lamb.
I certainly prefer the bite of these blueberries to the bite of those wasps.
What about you? Any run-ins with nature to report? Thanks for visiting, and happy September to you.
Catherine on the blueberry hunt.
Wasp attack waiting to happen.
Big, fat, ripe blueberry.
A small jar of concentrated deliciousness.
Pickled blueberries over Humbolt Fog ripened goat cheese.