The Boysenberries
I don't think I've ever met a berry I didn't like. Blueberry and raspberry probably being my favorites. But by the end of July they are all but finished in our orchard. Boysenberries are just getting started though. This cane is an off shoot of a plant that someone gave me over 15 years ago. It will produce berries till the end of August! Boysen berries are special for several reasons. Unlike other berries you can't tell just by looking at their color if they're ripe or not. I've been fooled before when I've picked a plump boysenberry of the deepest, darkest purple only to bite into it and get a mouthful of sour! My youngest grandson Langston loves the sour ones and pick's them too early. A simple test of squeezing one between your thump and forefinger (after some experience) will teach you when and what the perfect time of sweet and sour feels like. They are a cross between logan berry, raspberry, blackberry and some say American dewberry. They were developed in the 1920's by a horticulturist named Rudolph Boysen. You don't see them in stores often because they bruise easy and don't ship well. One of the other things I like about them is that the canes have no thorns. I never come away unscathed after picking raspberries or blackberries. There are few things in life I love more than being able to walk out my front door and forage for fruit, berries and mushrooms as well as medicinal plants that grow around our home. I love summer
!
I grew up near Knott's Berry Farm, located in Anaheim, CA. It was a working berry farm and in the 40's, the owners opened a few small attractions to bring in more customers. Of course over time that became the main attraction as the valuable land the farm encompassed gave way to more financially lucrative purposes. However, for me, the real attraction were the boysenberries.
Initially, we could buy boysenberry punch, jam, sauce, preserves....all made or supervised by Mary Knott in her industrial kitchen. I have never tasted a better berry. As I write this, I swear my mouth is watering. As time went by, it became harder and harder to find a store that carried the preserves. The quality eroded. Eventually, they went full corporate and the resulting product no longer even tasted like a boysenberry. 😥
I still mourn my inability to find any preserves made with those magical berries or worthy of the Knott name. Thank you for bringing me back to a reminder of how deliciously tantalizing the taste of a boysenberry is. I envy your bounty.
I love berries, too! Your essay reminds me of childhood: grazing on boysenberries with a neighbor in her uncle's yard! Inspiring, too, you are blessed to live so beautifully.