Desperate for new-old recipes, I bought a couple of filled-to-the-brim recipe boxes on eBay and, when they arrived last week, I began the task of sorting through all manner of recipe material culture: small booklets; recipes clipped from magazines, newspapers and the back of boxes; and my favorites -- recipes jotted down on scrap paper or hand-written on recipe cards, many in a beautiful script so rare these days.
One card among the dozens jumped out at me, mostly for it's unusual name: Huckle Buckle. I figured I could substitute blueberries for huckleberries, but upon careful reading of the recipe I realized it was missing so many instructions (amount of berries, what to do with them, some reference to "warming" that made no sense), that I decided to employ Google. I mean, how did we ever live without this instant access to information?
Because this is a family blog, I can't really discuss the alternate meaning of Huckle Buckle as revealed by my internet search, but let's just say it involves a sexual position that requires the extreme flexibility of, say, a yoga master. (Here's where everyone leaves my blog to search, so I've decided to provide the link for you. Must be over 17 to click.)
This reminds me of the time Nick, my friend Mary's son, had to do a paper on beavers. You can imagine what that search turned up -- stuff that a fifth grader could never use in the classroom!
Anyway, despite the porn allusion, the poor instructions and everything else, this recipe ROCKS! The buckle is beyond delicious -- something about the sweet and crunchy crust and the bit of the tart berries is almost magical.
As DH said, when he took a bite: "This is better than the sex position." As if he ever had a huckle buckle!
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