Blueberries

There is nothing like the taste of wild blueberries. It’s been decades since I had them, yet the memory of them lingers. In the Wisconsin Indian summer, Grandma, Grandpa & I would go into the woods to gather them. It was still warmish weather, yet we’d wear long sleeves to protect us from scratches from undergrowth and itches from mosquitoes. I carried a little metal pail, shiny silver with a silvery metal wire handle that would squeak a bit on the hinge where it connected to the pail.

The woods were shady and damp, the perfect habitat for wild blueberries, mosquitoes and bears. I never saw the bears but knew that they were there, somewhere in the bushes, and that they too love blueberries, so I was their rival.

I definitely ate at least half of all the berries that I picked, right there on the spot. When the dark blue skin gave way to my teeth, the burst of concentrated sweetness and blue flavor pleased me ever so much. But I still managed to have at least half my child-sized pail filled when we went home—along with some itchy red bumps from bug bites.

Since I moved to Colorado 33 years ago I haven’t had a chance to visit the wild blueberry patches of Wisconsin. So when I first saw blueberries at the grocery store I was hopeful about resuming my blue-tinged pleasure. Those first ones were almost the size of grapes--& tasteless. I wouldn’t really call them blueberries, and although blue on the outside, even the skin color was less vivid. The sweet and blue flavor was diluted by domestication. Wild blueberries grew where they willed, whereas domesticated rows were coaxed into productivity where the farmer chose. Those reluctant blueberries didn’t have what they needed to make that amazing wild flavor. Perhaps bred for production and size, somehow the flavor genes got lost. Most Coloradans might never have tasted the real thing, but I was sorely disappointed.

Over the years commercial blueberries have greatly improved—especially the organic ones. They taste nearer to wild, with more of the flavor, and now aren’t so big. I indulge in my blue-tinged pleasure at will—especially because they have so many health benefits as well. Micro-nutrients packed into that delicious package prevent –or even reverse- mental decline due to aging, prevent cancer, and lower cholesterol.

One summer we tried to grow some blueberry plants in our Colorado yard. I never would have bought the plants, knowing that the climate is all wrong here. But my husband Victor bought them because blueberries are a family favorite.

So we planted the two plants in our back yard. That’s how I found out that rabbits love blueberry plants even more than I do. They ate all of the leaves, down to the ground, before there was even a hint of a blueberry on them. The bare stems forlornly bore no more leaves. It was sad but perhaps for the best. I would have been even more disappointed to bring pseudo-blueberries into the world.