When we picked up our first bushels of blueberries from Leduc Farms in Paw Paw, Michigan, the looming clouds and patches of rain didn’t seem to have kept any customers away.
There was a constant flow of berry-hungry people, streaming into the farm store requesting ice cream, and pie, and jam. But mostly they reached for the fresh blueberries, as big as any you’ve ever seen, and just as sweet.
It felt like we had landed smack dab in the middle of some sort of blueberry hub. Or maybe it was blueberry heaven.
These berries could’ve inspired poetry. Or maybe they already did.
“Blueberries as big as the end of your thumb,
Real sky-blue, and heavy, and ready to drum
In the cavernous pail of the first one to come!”
-Robert Frost, Blueberries
We can’t wait to hop in the kitchen and start preserving them, so you can savor the poetic sweetness all winter long.
– Maggie Cease, Local food system enthusiast, Fulbright Scholar, and Locavorious writer