How To Make Cucumber Sandwiches

My dad grew up with a garden. Not a small patch of summer veggies, but a garden, that was bigger than a lot of the lawns here in Philadelphia. Delicate rows of peas and beans. Monstrous heads of cabbage and cauliflower. Tomatoes. Long, twisting vines of squash, pumpkin and cucumber with bright yellow flowers. The potatoes had a patch all to themselves.

And sweet peas. My Grammy always had sweet peas. 

Blueberry Pie

When I was a kid, going up to Maine to see my grandparents always involved food. Cucumbers straight from the garden doused with vinegar and seasoned with salt and pepper, molasses crinkles that dissolved into aromatic hints of spices in your mouth, dill pickles that Grammy and Grandpa had canned themselves ("146 quarts this year") and pies upon pies upon pies. Apple. Strawberry. Chocolate. Pumpkin. Mincemeat. Pecan. And Blueberry.

Ah, Blueberries. Just the very word makes my mouth water and sends memories flashing into my mind, each crowding the other for a prominent position. I would assume that in most homes blueberries are enjoyed a few times a year and then forgotten as the members move on to other foods and other seasons. But in my family, blueberries have a status equivalent to gold.