by Rosemary Ruffenach | August 10, 2009 • Blueberries, Gooseberries, Raspberries—Red and Purple. Eventually, no matter how urgent my other Saturday tasks, I have to heed the siren call of berry picking. It’s one of my summer traditions, and if missed, fall and winter breakfasts are less tasty. But in fact, that’s not really what my berry-picking expeditions are all about.
When I was a kid, about every ten days in July and August, we’d get a call from my grandmother saying the raspberries were ready for picking.MORE »