Fresh Raspberries with Drizzled Honey Threads

Fresh Raspberries with Drizzled Honey Threads

Fresh Raspberries with Drizzled Honey Threads

It’s late in the season for berries, but there’s always that last hurrah.  I see them in the store or on somebody’s roadside stand, and I just can’t help myself.  I know they are less sweet than summer berries, but they are too beautiful, too red, and visions of sugarplums begin to dance in my head — plump berries in a glass bowl, drizzled with heavy cream. It’s all too much for the food senses! On one recent exploratory trip through apple country on a stunning Fall Sunday afternoon, with fruit and vegetable stands everywhere, beckoning loudly, I stopped to see what everyone had.  I like looking at all the produce and imagining what I’d do with it. Sometimes I ask other shoppers what they are going to do with , say, that BUSHEL of green cabbage they are hauling to their truck.  A very happy couple with a work horse of a pick-up truck said they were going to make a lot of slaw and chow-chow (which I had never heard of until I moved to North Carolina.)  Apparently, it’s a kind sweet relish made with — cabbage — of course.  I have yet to taste it, but that couple was surely going to make gallons of it. The cabbages led to the honey…. So there I was looking at all these green cabbages and striking up conversations about slaw and such, when what to my wondering eyes should appear, but jars and jars of honey.  I didn’t even begin to know what to buy, so I asked the clerk about it.  She said, “Oh, honey.  Follow me.” And I did. She handed me a jar of Smoky Mountain Sourwood honey and said confidently with her southern farm girl draw, “This here is the best honey I have.  It still has the comb in it, and it’s the most delicious honey.  It makes all difference to leave the honeycomb in the jar. ” When I asked her about consuming the honeycomb, she went on to say that they grew up poor and didn’t have chewing gum, so they used to chew honeycomb instead.  She told me I could eat it or chew it, but the big difference was the taste of the honey.  And she assured me that honey had never been heated. Well, that story worked just fine for me.  I believed her and bought it immediately. I took it home.  I opened the jar and tasted it. I thought I was gonna die.  Of bliss.  Who knew honey could be so good???  Suddenly, I felt rather silly for EVER buying any other kind of honey. And then out of the refrigerator floated the red raspberries.   They heard the call of the honey.   I washed them gently, and then took a sharp knife (you’ll see why in a minute) and put the clean sharp tip down into the honey.  The honey fell from the sharp tip in microscopic threads over the cool, wet berries. I didn’t expect the honey to stay in threads and droplets once it fell on the raspberries, but it did.  I guess the berries were cold enough to keep the honey in place.  It was gorgeous. I think it took a half hour to eat a small bowl, I ate them so slowly, savoring all the tastes and textures.  If you have any late season, ever so slightly tart raspberries, falling under the spell of a little Sourwood Honey from Granny’s Roadside Stand could be a very good thing! And then there’s tomorrow’s breakfast…

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Terri Crosby

Helping you create life-affirming, ever-evolving, happier relationships with those you love. Follow me on twitter at@TerriCrosby or read myblog.

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Intimacy Is Everywhere

Hello Everyone,

Today, intimacy.

Love to you all,

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Friday Love: Bam! Gate Breaking, Anyone?

Good Friday, Everyone!

Today, I’m sharing a story about how I accidentally accomplished something on my bucket list. I ran through an exit gate while looking the other way. The hood of my car is scratched up, and one windshield wiper is a mess, but let’s have a good laugh about how we never expect what “getting what we want” includes!

Let me know if you relate…

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Enough with the Name-Calling

It seems to be a growing fad these days to call someone a narcissist, or declare they are toxic.
 
Political name-calling is similar—we assign politicians and voters to categories, and brush them off as if they are unintelligent, inferior, or even worthless.
 
By labeling others, we miss their humanity. We gloss over their struggle, their best effort at dealing with life. We dismiss them.
 
We do to them what we believe they are doing to others.
 
Look past a label, and in the soft light of day, there stands a person like you or like me, coping as best they can. At the end of the day, no friend, parent, or lover making conscious choices intends to be mean, or to ignore, or to embellish. There is always more to the story.
 
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It is my wish that you view this video and take it to heart.
 
Much love,
Terri
 
 

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