Photo by fotyma
When I was a kid, we would pick them on annual walks around the lake, filling huge plastic buckets. Later, I found them at farmers markets, their appearance hinting at the turn of the seasons. Recently, I have hunted for them on hillsides, swatting at flies and mosquitoes, still determined to get my share of the blue goodness. Whether eaten by the handful or drowned in heavy cream, they explode with a satisfying crunch, releasing a sometimes tart, sometimes sweet, but always intense flavor. Their cultivated cousins pale in comparison, trying to make up in bulk what they lack in summer richness.
