We also went blueberry picking. Last Friday night we went picking after supper and came back with a few. On Saturday evening we returned to the exact same field and it was practically a blue carpet. I couldn't believe it. Whereas on Friday, 5 of us picked maybe 3 cups of blueberries (that's less than a litre for the metric among us); on Saturday the same 5 of us picked easily 12 cups (3 litres)! Wonderful. I've been eating them, too. In the past, when we've had blueberries around, I am a bit hesitant just to pop 'em in my mouth because they're so precious. We therefore freeze a bunch which is nice but ... fresh is different. This year, I am repressing the "mustn't eat them; they're special" thoughts and hauling out bowlsful as alternatives to cookies in the afternoon.
They ARE different, though. We had blueberry pancakes this morning and (as always) we ignored the common wisdom that says you should plop the blueberries onto the batter in the pan to avoid blue-staining the batter in the bowl. There was no dyed batter. There was no spread of blueberry. They all stayed suspended in the batter and tasted delicious. I found a blueberry coffee cake recipe among my grandmother's collection. Maybe I should try that, too.
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