Husband and I drove about 45 minutes outside of our town today to The Middle of Nowhere, Oregon to pick some blueberries. We did this last year and knew that we wanted to do it again. It’s not that the process is particularly fun, but the payoff is great. We got more than double the amount of berries we could have bought at the farmers’ market for the price we paid, and the sweat makes them taste better. Plus, as white as we are, what can you expect?
We got 10 pounds of berries today and plan to go back for more in a couple of weeks when it’s a bit cooler outside than it was today. We eat them in so many things: cold cereal, oatmeal, pancakes, yogurt, ice cream, etc.
To get me psyched up for our picking extravaganza, Husband made me these pancakes for breakfast using our last reserves of store-bought berries we’d been hoarding in anticipation of this trip. These pancakes were dee-vine. The man can cook when he’s motivated.
Because I am a total grown-up, I forced Husband to take my picture with my blueberry smile, above. Also, it’s worth noting that I make an exception to my usual “ew, hot fruit is so gross” rule when it comes to sun-warmed berries. Pies, however? Gross.