We huckleberry hounds take the sport of huckleberrying very seriously. (By the way, the "sport" includes every aspect, including the hunt, the preservation, the prepartion, the consumption and -- grudgingly -- the sharing.) Take this recent email to my co-workers, for example:
Subject line: Cheesecake!
And not just any cheesecake, my lucky co-workers. This is homemade Lindy’s-style cheesecake with huckleberry topping! Yes, finally, and after much cajoling and entreating on your part, I have been persuaded to bring you all an indulgence made with real, hand-picked-from-the-Idaho-forests huckleberries.
The cheesecake is chilling in the fridge and will be ready for consumption by lunch time!
A word of caution: Please understand that huckleberry aficionados like me can be easily offended if, when they share their purple gold, the recipients do not simply RAVE about the superiority of huckleberry flavor. We spend countless hours in the mountains hunting down these precious beauties, after all. So even if you do have inferior-quality taste buds and do not think huckleberries are the world’s most amazing berry, and favored by the gods, you’d darn well better convince me otherwise, or you will be cut off from future huckleberry offerings for all time. No forgiving. No forgetting.
I have bcc’d certain members of my family, and at a moment’s notice they can be called upon to give you examples of how friends, neighbors and even in-laws have been “black-listed” from ever again receiving so much as a single huckleberry. Even the most innocuous-sounding comments such as, “Hmm. Not bad.” or “These are pretty good.” can land you on that dreaded list. Tread carefully; you have been warned.
Now, enjoy!
-Bruce
You see, this is a serious business, and to prove my point, I am going to call upon my family members to provide stories of their black-listed friends in the form of comments to this blog. Check back soon.
