Wild blueberries always make me nostalgic. My family spent summers at a beautiful mountain lake and blueberries were abundant on the mountain. Mom would make pancakes in the morning and we would run out into the yard in our pajamas to gather just enough berries to add to the batter.
Of course, we always called them huckleberries. To us, a wild berry was a huckleberry, and a cultured berry was a blueberry. Over the years, I’ve realized that there are numerous definitions for these terms depending, I guess, on local custom. Some say that low bush berries are huckleberries and high bush are blueberries. Others say it the size of the seed that determines the name.
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So, Mike went berry picking yesterday and came home with 5 quarts of wonderfulness. Today, I made two pies and several half pints of jam, using the same recipe I use for Strawberry Maple Jam. Wonderfulness turned into even more wonderfulness!
Whether you call them blueberries or huckleberries, they are a highlight of summer. I’ll leave you with a recipe that my mom made every summer at the lake. These days, I make mine with sprouted wheat flour and low sugar, but I’ll give you the recipe just as she made it:
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