We spent the day at a nearby lake yesterday for the yearly picnic Hubby's work puts on. There was food as far as the eye could see, volleyball games, baseball games, squirt gun wars (that Hubby's co-worker Brian cheated at by using big tubs of ice water instead of squirt guns), and fun was definitely had by all. Despite it being held at the lake, water sports other than the squirt guns were not engaged in, much to the dismay of the kids. While the lake is swimmable, the location was proximate to the marina, and beach itself was not conductive to anything other than basking on.
While at the picnic I noticed the blackberries. There are the beginnings of ripeness, and the air around them held the delicious fragrance of barely ripe blackberries just begging to be picked. With this in mind, and after seeing that the weather tomorrow should be in the mid 70’s, I think a trip to the local blackberry patch is in order. I’ve had a hankering for homemade blackberry pie for a while now. This should do the trick nicely. That is, if we are able to find enough ripe berries to put something(s) together with what we find!
Pie made with berries just on the cusp of being ripe, and still enough tartness to pucker up with has got to be classified as food of the Gods.