Sorry, Mom.
Partly, it is just the fact that I am not a fruit dessert person, and the gooseberries tend to appear in these crazy fruit desserts (like "gooseberry fool"... whatever that is). I am not sure what else you can do with gooseberries, I think they are way too sour for eating straight up.
I think there is some backstory about the gooseberries, but, I cannot now recall it. I do know that my mom LOVES them, I mean, really, I think she is quite obsessed with them. Maybe she can fill in a bit here, about what it's all about, and defend her obsession.
But, Ray and I, we just don't get the gooseberries.
I had fun trying to photograph them, though, and I think these pics came out okay.
8 comments:
I just think, for starters, that they're really pretty (as your photos show). There are also many people (most of them probably live in England) who LOVE Gooseberry Fool, which is made with heavy cream, sugar, and gooseberries - I mean, what's not to like? I confess that even at this moment I am scouring my cookbooks for other things to do with gooseberries, since I seem to have a very good crop this year.
Also: You need to move on to photographing my currents, which are REALLY beautiful, and for which even I have trouble finding things to do with.
AAGH! I meant currAnts.
Yeah, those English are known the world over for their great crusine ...
Of course, if your existence were dominated by the "blasted henglish drizzle", and dinner was corned beef, boiled cabbage and potatoes, "gooseberry fool" would be pretty appealing!
Hello? Has EVERYONE forgotten about the caramelized gooseberry marmalade that will live in my mind forever as a component of possibly the best breakfasts I have every eaten? Anne's homemade bread toast, gooseberry marmalade, a pot of good tea, and the view from the HP porch?
I think I may have found the topic that is going to resuscitate my poetry-writing muscles.
If you can wax poetic about how nice gooseberries are, then maybe I need to re-evaluate my whole gooseberry snidery.
Gooseberry epiphany: On is affected indirectly but significantly in life by the culture of the generation in which one's parents grow up. My dad adored gooseberries (and currants). At least he believed he did, which for my point here is just as good if not better. He was worldly in an unobtrusive, gentlemanly way. This worldliness was expressed partly in his affection for what - in the America of my childhood - were considered exotic foods, including gooseberries.
One of the reasons I love Anne has to do with the fact that her dad was a lot like my dad. They were from the same generation and had some similar experiences. Because of this, she understands me in a certain way that none of my age-peers ever did or will, since their folks were born in the thirties and forties, not the teens. My folks neither knew nor cared what "Happy Days" was all about. Fonzi would not have participated in good faith in a conversation about gooseberries.
Gooseberries remind me of my love for my dad. The fact that Anne is nurturing these them makes me feel like all is right in at least one little corner of the world.
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