This week we've been busy picking black raspberries. We have huge patch of them and they are having a bumper crop, which is nice since the frost got ALL of them last year. I'm throwing them in the freezer and will make preserves on Saturday-I can't wait. I should be able to make enough that we won't have to buy any jelly all year. Makes me feel like a prairie woman like Laura Ingalls. I love that feeling, but with working full time I don't do much of that. Such is life.
I did make a pie the other night and it was wonderful. I don't ususally make pies because I struggle with the pie crust. I know I can buy one, but that seems wrong to me-I come from a long line of bakers. It runs deep in my family (where's that from?).
When my sister lived with us she would always make the crust and I'd make the other part and we were good to go. Tim was chiding me that I should have had the foresight to learn from Mary how to make a crust. But I didn't want to, I still want her to do it. Turns out, that's not working out so well for me.
So I forage into the crust making myself. The crust had just a couple of patches on it-I struggle with the rolling, but it tasted delicious, looked good on the top and it was a fine crust overall if I do say so myself.
On the fourth I plan to make another pie with some homemade ice cream after we cook out. Talk about some good stuff!!