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Because in food I trust. In all forms and shapes. 

The story of rowanberry butter

The story of rowanberry butter

My friends and I believe that the power of friendship is in the traditions we make (Christmas is a great example of traditions that keep people together and happier). Friendship is about things we do and how we do them. One year, my dear friend invited me over to her garden to gather some rowanberries. There was no need to ask me twice. I went. It was an awfully grey day (as many in Latvia) with rain, but we stood there in our raincoats and picked them. Both of us. I went home, boiled some rowanberries, spices and some nice butter and gave her one jar as a present (you should say thank you). She was so in love with that texture and taste that the next day I was “invited” to do a masterclass – cooking together ;). I went and we spent a fantastic afternoon boiling berry and fruit butters together.

We decided to do it again his year. With the sun shining, dogs enjoying the sun, and us picking berries, we once again spent a very beautiful autumn Sunday. With talk, laughter, wine in one hand and berries in the other, and a great meal at the end of the day, we all went home with jars full of amazing jam. That's what counts and that's what makes life so special. That is the story of rowanberry butter and how it became a tradition.

Text and pictures: Signe Meirane
Thank you my dear friends
Photos taken with Sony alpha 7s

chic + best smorebrod

chic + best smorebrod

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