June 22, 2015 at 5:30 p.m.
Memories were made while picking berries
As I See It
By Diana Dolecki-
The raspberries are beginning to ripen. If you are blessed with black raspberries, do not brush your teeth immediately before eating them. Minty toothpaste combined with the flavor of fresh raspberries is not a good combination.
Raspberries come in three main colors, red, black, and yellow. I have read that there is also a purple one but since I have never seen it, I’m not sure it really exists.
Red raspberries can sometimes be found in the grocery store for an exorbitant price. Black raspberries are apparently too fragile and full of flavor to be found anywhere except the jam and jelly section or the occasional fruit farm. Yellow ones seem to be more of a novelty and don’t put in an appearance very often.
I prefer the black ones. The red ones are too pulpy for my taste. My grandmother had one or two yellow raspberry bushes that bore extra-sweet golden berries. I planted a yellow one once. The berries failed to live up to my memories and the canes disappeared after only a year of two.
The raspberry is a very old fruit and people have been enjoying its sweetness for a long time. Greek mythology tells us that baby Zeus was cared for by a nursemaid named Ida. She was picking berries for the infant and pricked her finger. Her blood dripped into the berries, staining them red for all eternity. Other stories give the nursemaid a different name and say the story occurred on Mt. Ida. The Latin name for raspberries is Rubus idaeus, meaning bramble bush of Ida.
It is thanks to this ancient lore and evidence of raspberries in multiple architectural digs that it is believed that the ancient Greeks were among the first to cultivate the colorful fruit even before the birth of Christ.
The red raspberry may have been brought to North America by prehistoric people who crossed the Bering Straight although the wild black raspberry is believed to be native to the west.
I have found some interesting things that people used to do with raspberries besides eating them. The leaves were steeped to make a tea that would ease various maladies, such as “many of the complaints of the fertile years.” It was used as a stain. Raspberry canes were hung outside of homes for protection from “any souls who may inadvertently wander in.” The one I found most odd was that to tame a bewitched horse a bit of cane should be tied to the horse’s body. If I were a horse, that is the last thing that would tame me, bewitched or not. Where do people come up with this stuff?
Raspberries are grown commercially across most of the country, but the state of Washington leads the way with 70 million tons per year in production. That’s a lot of berries as an individual berry weighs only 0.11 to 0.18 ounce. A single bush can yield several hundred berries each year. By comparison, I would be delighted if my pitiful patch would yield a total of a hundred berries.
Raspberries are very hardy and will grow as far north as the Arctic Circle. This woody perennial with an aggregate fruit structure is exceptionally nutritious, containing copious amounts of vitamin C and fiber. An entire cupful has only 64 calories or about one calorie per berry.
The best thing about them is not their history or their calorie count. It is the flavor. Anything that can be eaten straight from the plant is far superior to any food found in any grocery store on the planet. I may not be able to prove that homegrown food is more nutritious, but it always tastes better.
There is also the element of control. I can choose whether or not to use pesticides. I can choose to wait until something is perfectly ripe. I control the quality to a certain extent. I cannot control the weather.
The other thing about homegrown berries is the memories they evoke. Popping a perfect hollow orb into my mouth reminds me of the many hours I once spent picking berries along the fencerows and ditches. It reminds me of the hundreds of jars of jams and jellies my grandmother made. It reminds me of the many pies she baked. It reminds me of lazy summer days when my fingers were stained with the blood red juice of fresh berries.
The berries are ripe. It’s time to make memories of your own.
Raspberries come in three main colors, red, black, and yellow. I have read that there is also a purple one but since I have never seen it, I’m not sure it really exists.
Red raspberries can sometimes be found in the grocery store for an exorbitant price. Black raspberries are apparently too fragile and full of flavor to be found anywhere except the jam and jelly section or the occasional fruit farm. Yellow ones seem to be more of a novelty and don’t put in an appearance very often.
I prefer the black ones. The red ones are too pulpy for my taste. My grandmother had one or two yellow raspberry bushes that bore extra-sweet golden berries. I planted a yellow one once. The berries failed to live up to my memories and the canes disappeared after only a year of two.
The raspberry is a very old fruit and people have been enjoying its sweetness for a long time. Greek mythology tells us that baby Zeus was cared for by a nursemaid named Ida. She was picking berries for the infant and pricked her finger. Her blood dripped into the berries, staining them red for all eternity. Other stories give the nursemaid a different name and say the story occurred on Mt. Ida. The Latin name for raspberries is Rubus idaeus, meaning bramble bush of Ida.
It is thanks to this ancient lore and evidence of raspberries in multiple architectural digs that it is believed that the ancient Greeks were among the first to cultivate the colorful fruit even before the birth of Christ.
The red raspberry may have been brought to North America by prehistoric people who crossed the Bering Straight although the wild black raspberry is believed to be native to the west.
I have found some interesting things that people used to do with raspberries besides eating them. The leaves were steeped to make a tea that would ease various maladies, such as “many of the complaints of the fertile years.” It was used as a stain. Raspberry canes were hung outside of homes for protection from “any souls who may inadvertently wander in.” The one I found most odd was that to tame a bewitched horse a bit of cane should be tied to the horse’s body. If I were a horse, that is the last thing that would tame me, bewitched or not. Where do people come up with this stuff?
Raspberries are grown commercially across most of the country, but the state of Washington leads the way with 70 million tons per year in production. That’s a lot of berries as an individual berry weighs only 0.11 to 0.18 ounce. A single bush can yield several hundred berries each year. By comparison, I would be delighted if my pitiful patch would yield a total of a hundred berries.
Raspberries are very hardy and will grow as far north as the Arctic Circle. This woody perennial with an aggregate fruit structure is exceptionally nutritious, containing copious amounts of vitamin C and fiber. An entire cupful has only 64 calories or about one calorie per berry.
The best thing about them is not their history or their calorie count. It is the flavor. Anything that can be eaten straight from the plant is far superior to any food found in any grocery store on the planet. I may not be able to prove that homegrown food is more nutritious, but it always tastes better.
There is also the element of control. I can choose whether or not to use pesticides. I can choose to wait until something is perfectly ripe. I control the quality to a certain extent. I cannot control the weather.
The other thing about homegrown berries is the memories they evoke. Popping a perfect hollow orb into my mouth reminds me of the many hours I once spent picking berries along the fencerows and ditches. It reminds me of the hundreds of jars of jams and jellies my grandmother made. It reminds me of the many pies she baked. It reminds me of lazy summer days when my fingers were stained with the blood red juice of fresh berries.
The berries are ripe. It’s time to make memories of your own.
Top Stories
9/11 NEVER FORGET Mobile Exhibit
Chartwells marketing
September 17, 2024 7:36 a.m.
Events
250 X 250 AD