May Day and the farm at the height of spring. The lilacs are in full bloom along the north fence — that specific smell, the one that means May in Vermont and no other month, coming through the kitchen window in the morning. The apple trees have finished blooming and set their first tiny fruitlets. The asparagus is still going. The garden is planted and growing. Everything is doing what May is for.
Made the rhubarb jam on Saturday. Fifth year running. Helen's recipe, the same jars, the same process, the smell that fills the kitchen with something I've stopped trying to describe and simply let be what it is. Six jars, labeled and into the cellar. One opened immediately. Spread on toast at the counter, standing, in the morning light. Right. Always right.
Bill from Maine called to say his rhubarb is up — the plants he planted last fall are showing their first red stalks. He said: they're not ready for jam this year. I said: no, not this year. He said: next year? I said: next year they'll be strong enough for a small batch. He said: I'm marking next May in the calendar. I said: mark it big. He was pleased. There's a particular pleasure in waiting for something you've planted. You've made a promise to your future self. The rhubarb keeps it whether you remember to or not.
The tomatoes are in the cold frames and looking strong. Another two weeks to the last frost date. The patience of May: everything almost ready, nothing quite there yet, the season holding you just slightly behind what you want.
The jar I opened Saturday morning deserved something worth spreading it on—toast works, always has, but when I had a loaf of blueberry bread on the counter I understood what the jam had been waiting for all year. Two fruits in season at different moments, meeting on the same slice. Helen would have approved. This is the bread I make when I want the morning to feel like it earned itself.
Blueberry Bread
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 65 min | Total Time: 1 hr 20 min | Servings: 12 slices
Ingredients
- 2 cups all-purpose flour
- 1 cup granulated sugar
- 1 1/2 tsp baking powder
- 1/2 tsp baking soda
- 1/2 tsp salt
- 1 large egg
- 1/2 cup whole milk
- 1/3 cup fresh orange juice
- 1 tsp orange zest
- 3 tbsp unsalted butter, melted and cooled
- 1 1/2 cups fresh or frozen blueberries (if frozen, do not thaw)
- 1 tbsp all-purpose flour (for tossing berries)
Instructions
- Preheat and prepare. Heat oven to 350°F. Grease a 9x5-inch loaf pan and line with parchment paper, leaving an overhang on the long sides for easy removal.
- Mix dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together 2 cups flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt until evenly combined.
- Mix wet ingredients. In a separate bowl, whisk together the egg, milk, orange juice, orange zest, and melted butter until smooth.
- Combine. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and stir with a spatula until just combined—a few small lumps are fine. Do not overmix or the loaf will be tough.
- Prepare the berries. Toss the blueberries with the remaining 1 tbsp flour until lightly coated. This helps keep them suspended in the batter rather than sinking to the bottom.
- Fold and pour. Gently fold the floured blueberries into the batter. Pour into the prepared loaf pan and spread evenly.
- Bake. Bake for 60–65 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean and the top is golden. If the top browns too quickly after 45 minutes, tent loosely with foil.
- Cool. Let the loaf cool in the pan for 15 minutes, then lift out using the parchment overhang and cool completely on a wire rack before slicing. Slicing too early will cause the loaf to crumble.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 185 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 4g | Carbs: 35g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 155mg