When I was 14, my sister & I shipped off to spend the summer with an uncle & aunt on their raspberry farm. We spent the season picking – as I recall, I could pick up to 8 flats a day. [Unlike strawberries, you can pick raspberries standing up – much better for you ergonomically]. Being paid by the flat was an incentive to do more than sample the wares, but not a sufficient discincentive to fail to indulge. Hate to admit that it was almost 50 years ago, but raspberries are still my favourite fruit.
The first thing I always check for when shopping for groceries is the availability of raspberries. I buy them summer and winter, organic and non, and must confess, I do not look at the price. I just have to have them. I’ll eat them in the car, with granola or cereal for breakfast, or on pancakes, and with ice cream any day of the week.
More recently, my little grandson Matias, cursed / blessed with a plethora of food allergies has become a kindred spirit. Like me, he can eat an entire package of “ra’pberries” between the time his parents enter Zehr’s and reaching the checkout cashier. His parents grow raspberries in their backyard, which Matias picks but he saves some for Grandpa – a consideration which I appreciate.
Not only does he enjoy their flavour, he has also developed a tactile appreciation for these aesthetic fruits.
It’s the simple pleasures in life which are often the best. Raspberries, and a little friend who shares them with you.