When I was a kid my dad would often take me and my brother bike riding. Probably to give my mom some well-deserved time and space. We used to go riding on the Vanderbilt Motor Parkway, which was originally built to connect the Gold Coast mansions on the North Shore of Long Island for all the party goers in the early part of the last century. With time, the toll road fell out of use, but became a way to link the major parks. So we used to start up at Alley Pond Park, and ride for miles. Along the way we would stop and pick wild raspberries, blackberries, and blueberries. We would always promise to bring some home to make pancakes, but who can resist sun-warmed wild berries? They truly are the best. Later on we spent a few Labor day weekends at a family camp up in the Catskills, and there was always a blueberry picking expedition. It was always a treasure hunt for me!
Side note… I never ate PB&J sandwiches… outrightly refused. Ugh that texture. That taste. ::shudder:: Instead, my mother made me Philadelphia Cream cheese and Jelly sandwiches.
You will notice I left off the corn. I hate everything about corn except if it is popped at the movie theater and you can personally add a gratuitous amount of butter-flavored oil to it (amirite??).
I did quite like this tart, even if I have been craving cake for two weeks now. Loved the creamy base, which was the perfect foil for the delicate blueberries. The rosemary in the jam evokes the slightest woodsy-ness, which brings back the smell of the pine and evergreen on those crisp early morning blueberry hunts, with the crunch of dried leaves underfoot. And overall very simple assembly and process. I always roll out the dough, rather than press it out by hand so that there are scraps to snack on. I can’t be the only one.