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Last summer, our family went on a vacation in late July. It’s true that we had a wonderful taking a train across western Canada to the Canadian Rockies. So I’m not complaining. We even had good food along the way.
But we got home to a small raspberry disaster. Moldy berries lay on the ground beneath the canes. Our house-sitter had been conscientious about weeding the vegetables, but the ripening raspberries had escaped her notice.
A raspberry peaks in ripeness and is perfect for just a few hours before it begins to go downhill. The best time to pick raspberries is in the morning, after the dew has dried but before the full force of the sun hits the plants. When the weather is right (warm, dry, a little breezy), you can pick twice a day, first at about 10 a.m. and again at 4 p.m. Popping a few of them into your mouth as you pick is one of life’s great pleasures.
Raspberries and I go back a long way. When I was a child, my grandmother had a large raspberry patch, and she loved to share the bounty with us. I grew up thinking it was normal to have dozens of jars of raspberry jam in the pantry. Now that I have my own, I appreciate the work that goes into preserving all of those raspberries, the most ephemeral fruit. This year, I won’t miss a day of raspberry season if I can help it.
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