This year the blackberries at the parental homestead have been going apeshit. I’ve never seen such fat sweet blackberries — the really ripe ones don’t need even a grain of sugar.
I stuffed most of those straight down the pie hole either whilst picking or during a blackberry-appreciation moment with B to whom I was giving a bunch of the loot.
As for the rest of them, the lovely but not quite as oozingly sweet ones, they were absolutely gorgeous with vanilla ice cream. Normally I dislike dairy and berries, finding that the creaminess mutes the berry flavors, but this particular combo rocks the house, bringing out the best qualities of both.