The blueberry queen
Yesterday afternoon, I went blueberry picking at the Gierke Blueberry Farm in Chassell. I was on a mission to pick a shitton of blueberries, enough blueberries to (dare I say it) last me through the year. This is a big feat, because I 1) LOVE blueberries and 2) have a problem with stopping when I eat them.
I picked and picked, and picked some more. I found a few jackpot bushes, and felt gluttonous about halfway through but could.not.stop.picking. By the time my friends dragged me away, I was 17.5lbs of blueberries richer.
What will I do with all these blueberries, you ask? What won’t I do. Muffins. Cobbler. Ice cream. Oatmeal. A bloggy-friend sent me a recipe for Zippy-Fast Blueberry Crisp (via microwave) and I am psyched to try it. But my favorite thing to do with blueberries is just eat them raw and plain.
Today, they’ll be fueling me right on a long ride through the Keweenaw (I had creamy grits with 1/2c blueberries for brekky). Chances are good that I will stop along the road somewhere and find another blueberry (or raspberry. or thimbleberry) bush to steal from.