I find this practice mildly offensive, with my proclivity to sweets in their homiest or most elaborate forms. Our fruit is often eaten in place of dessert. I like to brag about that, and the fruit-laden table that is the backdrop to every evening’s visit in Lebanon and no doubt wherever we are around the world. We come by this naturally, as the Lebanese affinity for all fruit (the apricots are coming, promise) is a hallmark. She inspected ours and turned her nose up a little, saying she only picked the finest berries.Ĭome breakfast the next morning, she lifted a berry high up off her plate and said: I picked this one. That was her explanation when she saw my four quarts and my sister’s four to her three. Mama was extremely selective in her picking. I mumbled that the lost berries were the result of my small hands, but I admit it had more to do with greed. My reaction to that ( OH NO!) disturbed the zen mood of the picking place every time a berry fell. Many went into my mouth, but more than a few fell to the ground. When we picked this week, a whole hand filled before you could get it back to the basket. Right now the berries are finally so ripe they practically fall off the bush at the mere whisper of “hello,” before the hand even approaches. I’ve more than mentioned here how seriously we take our raspberry picking Up North. A beautiful, simple cake perfect with coffee. Raspberry crumb cake is fragrant with rose water and fresh raspberries.
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