I can remember picking blackberries with my grandmother in Suffolk. My sisters and I would go on the chicken licken walk by the fields and try to outpick each other. Fingers stained purple, there was something very satisfying about plucking the fruit from the brambles and getting something for free. I have vague memories of apple and blackberry pie and crumbles with the deep red juice bleeding through. These are frozen ready for winter, in anticipation of chilly evenings and a hearty hot pudding or two!