I thought about making jam. I opened up my go-to cookbook to the index, found the page, and scanned. 4 cups sugar.
I settled on a rinse and some quick work with a pairing knife. Into a container, along with blueberries, into the fridge.
...
They were beautiful. I'll give them that. Deceptively beautiful. The price had even gone down by a dollar. They had me! Once at home—tasted—beautiful and, bursting with absolutely no flavor whatsoever. Unless one counts water as a flavor.
I felt frustrated, defeated. A fool.
...
So, they sit. Under blueberries. In the fridge. Eaten with cautious optimism each time.
Hate that. But maybe you'll get lucky and have one or two gems hiding in the bunch.
ReplyDeleteI hope you're right, Wendi.
DeleteI know the feeling. Ours were not just tasteless but hard too, even a day on the wall and they were still crispy. We will know better next time (tasting is the way) xx
ReplyDeleteTasting is the way. No doubt. I must practice next go round.
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