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by Yee-Fan Sun | 1
the boy was a very very little boy, his family had a cottage up
in Nova Scotia. This was years and years before I ever knew him (and
I've known him a long time), but decades later and all grown-up, he
still talks about it like it was one of his favorite places ever. The
details are fuzzy; he was just a toddler then; any memories, I'm sure,
are informed as much from pictures and stories as they are from his own
recollections. But still he waxes nostalgic over the sea, and the quiet
summers, and being a carefree kid unburdened with any of those pesky grown-up worries. And
he remembers the blueberries, peppering endless stretches of wild
blueberry bushes, which his mom would gather in a basket while they
walked. The boy would follow along, surreptitiously digging into the
basket, stuffing sweet ripe berries into his mouth by the little kid
handful, so that his mom would be left wondering why the basket seemed
so slow to fill.
|The boy still
loves blueberries more than just about any other fruit in the
world, but sadly these days, our berries generally have to come
from the market. Still, when blueberry season finally hits and
those pretty little baskets of berries come down to reasonably
affordable prices, I can't resist snatching them up. Though
nothing beats a simple bowl of fresh ripe blueberries served up
straight, this recipe is a close second when it comes to ways to
celebrate the season…
on over for the recipe...
. laze . home.