In the past, summer days for children were not organized by adults. They were idle days, which is to say, kids were free to figure out what the world offered. The world was the lake, woods, house, porch, or the distance you could cover on foot or bike.
Occasionally someone would get the idea to collect the kids to pick berries. Everyone was given a bucket and shepherded to wherever an adult thought they remembered finding good berries in previous summers. The berries always seemed plentiful. I don’t have a memory of it being difficult to fill a good sized, gallon container, including eating as many as you picked.
If the picking happened in the morning, then the afternoon would include the activity of making Fool. We’d be given a glass loaf pan into which we’d place slices of cakey white bread after we’d trimmed the crusts. We approached it like piecing together a puzzle. The bread would be cut as exactly as we could manage. We’d put enough berries to make a first layer into a bowl, mash them with a fork, sweeten them with sugar and arrange moistened fruit on top of bread slices. We’d repeat that procedure until we had three or four layers of bread and lightly sugared berries.
The Fool would be left to sit for a few hours. The sugar drew juices, and the juices broke down the bread until it almost had a texture between cake and cream, and the natural pectin in the fruit along with the starch in the bread helped it all congeal. Its magic was that it fooled you into thinking it was a cake. It only involved berries and bread. You easily ate seconds. You liked it when there was enough left to refrigerate overnight. You could have it for breakfast, by which time it congealed even more and resembled a sort of pudding.
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1. by Kim on Jul 6, 2009 at 5:31 PM PDT
Robert, we loved this post -- maybe because we too are berry fools. I’m going to tinker with the headlines, and promote it to the top of Culinate home page. Thanks for it, and bravo!
2. by Jacqueline Church on Jul 7, 2009 at 8:58 AM PDT
Berries evoke great memories, don’t they? Here are some more: Ode to a Handmixer
Also in Falling Cloudberries there’s a grandmother’s recipe which I shared in the Foodoir contest post.
My fondest may be seeing my niece then 6 or so, coming back from her assignment to go pick some straweberries from Mom’s organic garden. Red faced and smiling, she reported that her bucket was empty because she couldn’t find any.
Cheers,
Jackie
3. by DawnHeather Simmons on Jul 7, 2009 at 9:12 AM PDT
I remember driving across the Bay with friends to pick up fresh berries at Kato’s farm in Fremont. The trick was to get them back home. Because there was always a bruised berry that you just new wouldn’t make it, so you just had to eat it. Oh! there’s another one! Gotta eat that, too! And on it went, until pretty soon, you’d realize you were deliberately pressing on the berries a little hard so you would bruise them just so you could eat them! Needless to say, we learned to buy a lot of extra berries at Kato’s so there might still be some by the time we got back home.
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