We went blueberry picking with the gang: a reluctant but competitive crowd of teenagers, toddler, non-fruit-eaters, and adventure buffs, plus a few adults who compared the prices of already-picked berries at various stores around the Midwest.
After an hour or so, we had 17 pounds of berries. (We should have weighed a couple of the kids before and after.) We’ll freeze most of these, but for the rest of the weekend, blueberry everything. One of the kids suggested blueberry pie, and I suggested this recipe. But we didn’t have sour cream, just cream that was sour, one of the group turned out to be allergic to walnuts, and one of the kids has a recipe app on her electronic gizmo that had a blueberry pie recipe. I washed berries, another adult made crust, and the ten-year-old and the eleven-year-old (the app holder) put together the pie.
We ate it lakeside. One more guest is arriving tonight; he’ll get pie for breakfast. In three days, it’s back to Missouri and a winter of frozen berries.Tweet