Wednesday, August 29, 2012


Yesterday Paul and I returned home from our road trip and promptly took a five hour nap. When we woke up, the sun was starting to set, and it wasn't even eight yet. I think summer is slowly ending, and soon it will be school time where I have to bike home from 5:30 lectures in the dark. But for now, it is still summer and after I saw a recipe for blackberry balsamic crumble pie on Design Sponge, Paul and I decided to pick our own blackberries. We went out past campus to the Willamette River where blackberry brambles grow like crazy. Blackberries are an invasive species and kind of a hassle, but they do produce the tastiest fruit. While we were out I got a shot of another light box installation. I think it's the eighth of 24 that I've found so far.

All the green in these pictures are blackberries brambles. They are literally everywhere. Because it wasn't 90 degrees outside, I wore my new jeans I got in Portland, but as it turns out, 80 degrees is still pretty warm for jeans. Even though I was hot, I was glad for the coverage because the brambles are ridiculously prickly. Paul wore shorts and we found thorns stuck inside his leg once we got home.

The river runs right by the Urban Farm on campus, where Paul took a class last year. It's awesome. There's a nice little plot of land filled to the brim with vegetables and you can take Urban Farm as a class where you learn about different techniques and pick vegetables to take home. Needless to say, we're big fans. By the farm is this great fruit mural, and we posed by the pear.

Once we got home, we made the pie. It has sea salt, walnuts, balsamic vinegar, lemon zest, and blackberries all wrapped up into the most delicious thing ever. It's messy, juicy, and the combination of the crumble with the crust is really great. The whole time I was picking blackberries I was thinking of my favorite Sylvia Plath poem called "Blackberrying." Nobody in the lane, and nothing, nothing but blackberries...with blue-red juices. These they squander on my fingers. I had not asked for such a blood sisterhood; they must love me.

No comments:

Post a Comment