My grandpa has the most amazing backyard. I don't know why I call it "Grandpa's Backyard" because it belongs to Grandma too, but I guess I always imagine him working out there, trimming, watering, picking fruit, falling out of the big cherry tree, falling of the back porch roof....Haha, I don't know how he has survived back there, but he has.
Grandpa is 88 this year.
And the backyard is so beautiful. It's quiet, and peaceful. Shady in the right places and sunny where you want it. And what I love most about it is that it's like walking through Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory, except with fruit! Everywhere you walk around his yard, there is some sort of fruit tree or bush or vine in front of you with something ready to be picked and popped right into your mouth. Don't wash it, that ruins the texture. Plus, you don't have time; Grandpa's going to walk around the corner and catch you any second! I've been busted and scolded many times for eating things without asking...But how can I help myself?! He has an apple tree, three (maybe four?) plum trees, three types of cherries (tart little pie cherries, and one tree that has black and Rainier cherry trees fused together!), blueberries, there used to be grapes (I don't think they're there anymore?) and the best of all, the Queen Mother of Grandpa's Backyard, his pride and joy: the raspberries.
On Father's Day last month, much of the Brooks' side of the family, down through great-grandchildren, were over at Grandma and Grandpa's to visit and celebrate all of the dads. It poured rain. But guess where we were, bundled up under tarps and tents, happy as can be? The smallest grandchildren running through "The Secret Pathway" that leads behind the flowerbeds along the fence, asking to be picked up so they can reach that one plump red raspberry, and finding perfectly good cherries that had fallen to the ground and had miraculously been spared being eaten by birds or worms. Cousin Logan, who is now a father of 5, found a small rickety ladder, stood on the very top rung, and risked death to fill his pockets with cherries and then placed them on the table for everyone to have one.
No one was scolded that day.
There are two promises that are kept every year: Grandpa's raspberry jam and Grandpa's raspberry pie. Grandma loves to tell everyone that she taught him how to make raspberry jam, but he completely took it over and now he gets all of the credit. I'm smiling just thinking about them while I type this.
And after all of that, I'm not even going to give you Grandpa's Raspberry Jam recipe. With all of that history behind it, you had to have guessed that it's a secret...
But I did find something pretty close. Something that gives me that warm fuzzy feeling and that I could also sit and eat with a spoon. And it happens to only have three ingredients (four, if you choose) and is a nice, clean recipe. You're welcome.
Clean Raspberry Jam
2 cups fresh raspberries
1 cup blueberries (or just another cup of raspberries)
1/2 cup honey
2 tbs. lemon juice (adjust to desired level of tartness)
Heat a small saucepan over medium heat. Place berries into pan and stir until warmed and they begin to burst. Add honey and lemon juice. Stir until everything has broken down into a well-combined mixture and the mixture has begun to simmer.
Reduce heat and simmer for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally. Let cool and then pour into a jar.
Don't forget to try some right away, while it is still warm, on a piece of buttered toast. ;)
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