Tiffany Glass Garden

Tiffany glass in the garden. A single raspberry held up to the sun brings this image. Every plump bump that forms a hollow ball of exquisite taste is a summer pleasure annually. The aroma of cooked jam lingers in my kitchen now, as I write. Eight stained glass jars pop, pop, pop with the seal of assurance that they will protect my treasure until just the right opening presents itself.

One of my tasks in childhood was to get up early (I still don't do that well), go out to our garden before the sun jumpstarted the day, lift the cheesecloth protection, fight the mosquito's lingering in the cool branches, search around the prickly branches to pluck each berry and fill up my bowl before the birds came for their breakfast. Breakfast those days was always special. During a Brownie Scout campout, we had just settled on to our army cots under the big canvas tent and turned lights out when we heard the tires on the gravel approach the leaders tent. 'Bunny', one of our counselors lived on a farm. Her parents were bringing us the biggest silver kettle of the freshest just picked raspberries I'd ever seen. Ten eager girls scampered to the kitchen pulling out every thing resembling a bowl, counted out spoons, and watched expectantly as fresh, rich cream lifted each jewel to the top of our bowl in greeting. Nothing tasted as good as that surprise, afterhours treat.

Given a choice of DQ toppings, Raspberry is the only consideration. Even better than chocolate, carmel or cashews. Filling in a sweet roll, coffee cake, torte, two layer cake? Need you ask? And Raspberry vodka? Unbeatable. Raspberry sauce on baked chicken? Try it you'll like it! Raspberries added to fresh garden salad with pecans; bring it on.

Food of the gods is how I often describe it. I picture royalty in ancient Greece or Rome popping beaded treasures into their mouths while lounging and enjoying music and dance of a social event.

Is there a taste that triggers mouth watering memories for you?

Let's get together and feast.