Back when Intern Tom was still around, we often discussed the merits of farming. On one occasion, he repeated something I’ve heard before, which is “Food always taste better when you grow it yourself.”
I have discovered this to be a myth. (I’ve been snacking from the kitchen garden lately and I have noticed no difference in taste between the three heads of lettuce I planted and the three Tom planted in the next bed over.)
My mother often says, “Food always tastes better when someone else cooks it for you.” This I do believe.
Based on recent experience, however, I now believe foraging to be the most satisfying eating of all. Yesterday, following my close watch this past week, I discovered the very first ripened blackberries of the season. I ate them all in a moment. They were good.
In regards to the blueberries growing in the kitchen garden, they too have been ripening at a rate of only a handful each day. I have made it my practice to harvest a few of the choicest first thing in the morning, lest other diligent blueberriers beat me to them.
Like most things, I suppose, the berry chase often surpasses the enjoyment of berry having.
Consider the recent strawberry harvest. The patch yielded so many strawberries that the other interns and I were able to eat ourselves full and then fill a large pot with the extras. I soon lost all interest in the potted strawberries, and I noticed that they sat uneaten for several days.