The Berry Whisperer

We Americans, particularly those of us in the Midwest, tend to associate mid-summer with a variety nick-names and activities. Sometimes we refer to it as the dog-days of summer, or the lazy days of summer. It is a peak vacation time, allowing families a trip before children go back to school, and before fall sport training/practice intervenes and the days shorten. It is a time for picnics, baseball, hot dogs and Chevrolet (oops, in today’s world that should probably be Toyota). In the Madison, WI area on Thursday of this week the average high temperature is 81 degrees, a drop of one degree from the average high Wednesday. The high of 82 degrees before Thursday represents the highest normal temperature for the Madison, WI locale. As a weather forecaster said this morning, the normal temperature goes downhill for six months, before it starts to increase. But summer is more than celebrating warm weather, or longer daylight hours. It is also our prime growing season here in the Midwest. That means plenty of fruit and vegetables. Some vegetables, like broccoli, have peaked, and like other cool season vegetables do not fare as well in the warm weather. Mid-July is also peak raspberry time, at least in our red raspberry patch.

Our Raspberry Patch

So it is, that my wife finds herself picking raspberries twice a day, and during heat waves three times a day. The patch of raspberries is thick and so high that she said she could die in there and no one would ever know. I noted that I would probably notice when I tried to figure out what smelled so bad. I do, however, join in picking raspberries when I am home from work. We are lucky her job gives her off for most of mid-summer during prime berry picking time. Who else would pick the berries during the first part of the day? When I was growing up, we had a huge, and I mean huge, berry patch. My mother would send, or really order, us children out to pick the berries. We would spend an hour or two picking the berries and come in with a few quarts. On days we did not pick twice a day, Mom would have Mrs. Dohm, an elderly family friend and our babysitter, come down to pick. She would pick several quarts in much less time than it would take us. I always thought it was Mom’s way of saying we did not pick well enough.  After all, she was always telling us to lift the branches, and when we say what Mrs. Dohm picked it was easy to think we did not do well lifting the branches. However, now that we have our own berry patch, what I realize is that these berries ripen rather quickly on a warm summer day. A berry not ready for picking at 11:00 am, may well be ready by 6:00 pm.

Two Nice Big Raspberries

The older of my two sisters and I, became young entrepreneurs and one summer picked a huge number of quarts of berries that we sold to the former Krause grocery store in Sun Prairie. The store was only a store-front away from our Dad’s office in Sun Prairie on the main street, back when such traditional down towns were still vibrant. We made enough money to buy a tent to pitch in the back yard and the campground later owned by my older brother near Westfield. Raspberries sell for significantly more today, and are sold in pints, rather than quarts which notes how valuable they have become in the marketplace. I can understand why There are fewer picking machines like Mrs. Dohm around today than in the late 1960’s and early 1970’s. The ability to make some cash off the old berry patch is also a testament to the size of the patch. My Mom still had sufficient supply to make jam, pies, desserts and just to plain eat. We were no small group to feed.

Happy Raspberries Baked in a Pie

Last Saturday, which was a nice warm and humid day, my spouse and I ventured into the berry patch with mosquitoes dive bombing in to our faces and most annoyingly near our ears. We managed to get another haul of berries to complement those harvested earlier in the day. When Sunday morning came around, I knew that she would want to get to work making jam, and I had prepared my response. When she announced that she planned to make jam that day, she was informed by her husband, the berry whisperer, that the raspberries had whispered to him to have her make one of her delicious raspberry pies. I could tell she wanted to protest, but I noted that the berries were pretty adamant about not being cooked down and placed in some jars, followed by a hot water bath. Not to be outdone she found it odd that the raspberries would rather be baked in an oven. Berries are there for human eating and pleasure and a pie made with fresh raspberries, particularly the one my wife makes, is more pleasing to the berries, not to mention my stomach, than being cooked down and stuck in a jar on a shelf. She will have plenty of other berries to use from which to add to our collection of preserves, but the chance to get a raspberry pie with fresh homemade berries is shorter than the raspberry growing season.

Chocolate Chip Zucchini Bread, layered with Peanut Butter and Red Raspberries
A nice delicious treat

As for me, I found another use for raspberries. I have been known for some odd sandwiches over time, such as my peanut butter, chocolate chip and bologna which was my main stay as a child. (I like to think I was the precursor of peanut butter and chocolate before Reese’s.) This past weekend, I slathered peanut butter on top of a piece of chocolate chip zucchini bread and layered the peanut butter with fresh raspberries. A nice treat to eat in between my daily pieces of raspberry pie.  Of course, as next week approaches and the peak of the season passes, my ears will once again be open to hear the sounds of the raspberries prodding me to get my wife to make another tasty desert.  While it is nice to keep my stomach happy, it is even nicer to keep the raspberries happy.

Photos by the author