my grandmother, edna yake meyer, celebrated black raspberries.
every single summer for as long as i can remember she would make sherbet with specially ordered black raspberries.
she made it with the richest cream she could find, so it hardly qualified for sherbet!
it was sort of this color
it was her wonderful tradition to serve it every year as the first course of
(trying to give you cool thoughts on this 98-degree day)
two black raspberry-colored bouquets