It’s blueberry season! Hooray! This is the time of year when we head down to the wonderful Mountainview Blueberry Farm to pick a big bucket full of beautiful berries. And then we get home, we realize that we got a ton of blueberries (the act of picking them is strangely addicting), and wonder what in the world to do with them all.
This year, so far I’ve made a huuuge batch of blueberry lime jam. Then I froze a bunch for later on. We’ve enjoyed blueberry pancakes, of course, and I’m thinking about a batch of blueberry muffins. Maybe with cornmeal. Today I’m going to look into making and freezing some blueberry baby food, and yesterday, I made this wonderful drink: fresh blueberry lemonade.
Honestly, I think this lemonade is more like a dessert than a beverage. It’s bursting with gobs of fresh, sweet blueberry flavor – all those pureed blueberries swimming with tart lemon and sugar make for a very special summer drink. Drink/dessert.
My inner foodie says recipes like this roll recipe are an embarrassment. My inner busy mom [holy crap, I'm a mom?!] says there’s nothing wrong with a super-quick and easy recipe now and then, even if it’s made with processed food (like, eek, Velveeta) or, in this case, refrigerator crescent rolls.
It’s all about finding time – or reserving that time for other things – and sometimes you only have a five-minute pocket to satisfy your desire to whip up something in the kitchen for your hungry family.
And that’s how I justify these rolls.
Here is where I would love to wax poetic about the intriguing Meyer lemon, and how I picked up a luscious-looking bunch of them at my neighborhood farmer’s market on a particularly crispy, sunny winter day … or maybe I plucked them off of a ripe old tree in a sunny corner of my sweet old Aunt’s backyard as she smiled at me, sipping tea as she rocked on the back porch.
There’s a well-known new book out there called The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake. The premise? The narrator, when eating a dish, can detect the emotions of the person who prepared the dish.
We’re getting married on a blueberry farm. This weekend. This WEEKEND! Gosh, this thing came fast. Seems like Christmas Eve was just yesterday… the day my guy got down on one knee and popped the question. I didn’t say yes, though. I said “of course!”