Today’s harvest is about three quarts of wild black raspberries (two are seen in the below picture).
The fruit are tiny compared to those gorgeous gems that are grown for market, but the taste is completely unique. The flavor of a sun-warmed black raspberry is somewhere between a raspberry and a blackberry — raspberry flavor without the pucker. The downside of picking wild raspberries? My hands look like I’ve been wrestling a kitty cat — tiny scratches wrap from the base of my thumb over the top of my hand. I spent about two hours picking, so a few scratches are to be expected!
I’m still debating cobbler versus jam. I think the jam might win.*** This personal blog is comprised solely of the opinions, views, projects, and travels of its author, Stacey Morgan Smith. She is lucky enough to have loving family and friends whom she drags along with her on her adventures and whom she puts to work on her little farm. She uses this blog to help promote living in the mountains of the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia, from Roanoke to the Potomac River.**