As I stocked up on hamburger and pork chops at my favourite butcher shop (shout out to Homesteader Meats where the meat is fantastic and only outdone by the friendliness of owners and staff), I decided to buy Mark a treat from the tasty jars of goodness on display in the store.
Saskatoon berry jam made in Saskatchewan doesn’t get much more authentic and I grabbed a jar after debating about getting raspberry too, but decided that was a next time purchase.
When we moved to Canada my step-mom said saskatoon berries were kind of dry and gritty compared to the Himalayan blackberries from our back yard in Oregon that we baked into so many pies and crumbles. And they may be, but by marrying a Canadian who knows good saskatoons from bad, I learned to appreciate the different blue taste a saskatoon berry has from a blueberry and a blackberry.
And I know about berries. I picked berries for Smuckers and other farms when I was in junior high in Oregon City. In fact, I was such a good berry picker I bought all my school clothes with the money I made in the berry patch one year. The berry busses used to pick us up very early in the morning and we would work in the fields and be home by early afternoon to swim the day away in the river. It was what we all did. So I got to know berries very well. I guess junior high school berry pickers went by the wayside with organized migrant workers, and I think today’s teenagers would cringe at the work, but we had some fun with it back then.
Anyway, I came home with my jar of saskatoon berry goodness and we’ve gone a bit “August crazy” with the taste of saskatoons. We have had the jam on apple pie, on frosted cinnamon buns, on ice cream, and toast. Today for lunch it was PB&J with saskatoon berry jam. Yummy!!
Thanks Last Mountain for the bit of August in April we are enjoying!
2 thoughts on “found me some August in April!”
That brings back memories …. I was a cherry picker from when I was 8 till about 12 when I was big enough to push bales of hay around … we went swimming after as well …. and we saved our money for school clothes …. and it was good for me.
Yup …. kids these days sure are missing out.
Oh yes, then we did the hay bales too at my Grandpa’s cattle ranch. Those arms criss-crossed with hay scratches right through the long sleeved shirts….and the clean sweet smell of freshly baled hay. Hard work, good times.