We had a large crop of these growing wild behind our yard when we lived outside of Pittsburg PA. Now the only ones we get in South Florida come in plastic containers from the store. They are no where as sweat as the ones from when I was a kid.
I ate countless pounds of blackberries picked from bushes near my childhood home in Georgia, and I've grown my own as an adult. They even have thornless varieties you can cultivate now, but somehow the berries are not nearly as sweet without the scars on your forearms. Suburban sprawl has certainly reduced the wild berry population around here, but they do still grow abundantly in the countryside. My children have fond memories of our trips to the mountains, where we just may pull the car off the side of a winding mountain road at any time when a lush thicket is seen nearby. Cobbler is divine and just some berries with a dollop of whipped cream and a sponge cake goes well with any meal. But it's hard to beat the flavor of a blackberry right off the bush, plucked by small, stained fingers.
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