I have been picking cherries with my friend Ellen a number of times in the past week. Most enjoyably we spent a couple of hours doing this just a few days ago and then for another hour this morning. This morning's picking on Ellen's neighbors' roof yielded about 40 pounds of cherries in a hour. (Wow. Thanks Ellen.)
I can't think of a better way to connect with your food than by picking it with your own hands. There is something about the repetitive motion and the silence in the fields, punctuated with the sounds of buzzing insects and birds, that brings you back to your primal self. I have said it before and I repeat it, "I am a gatherer, and I love it."
I also enjoy dealing with the fruits of my labor and figuring out the best thing to do with surplus. The choices are eating fresh, cooking, canning, drying and freezing. For many things, eating fresh is best but eating too many cherries can be painful. What I mostly do is freeze them but drying would be good, too, although I must get a dehydrator. Think that I will look for one on Craigslist or Freecycle.
Today I am going to make raw cherry pie with an almond agave crust. Yum, yum. (If it turns out great, I will share the recipe in my next post.)
On a completely different topic, this morning I went to buy something for the potluck for the last day of school for my son. I paid by credit card and the young woman laid a napkin down on the glass case and said, "These slips are funny and it's easier to sign them like this." I said, "Not ha ha, funny, right?" She replied, "No, they have no sense of humor." "You obviously do," was my retort. She shot back, "I grew it myself." "That's really good," I said, as I fumbled for a dollar to put in the tip jar. Humor like that is priceless but the dollar would have to do.
You know how much I love the connection with growing things, and you can't beat home grown humor, or fruit for that matter.