With the wild ones, I can see texture being an issue. Without some attention to triage, one risks chewing on an unpleasantly dry berry. Not ideal. They also, even when plump, have a bit of texture to them – although not enough to account for the hate on for them that some folks have.
But it also can’t be the flavour. It’s not as if they don’t have any – I have repeatedly noted how they’re far more intensely flavoured than any mutant-sized giant blueberry from a plastic clamshell that seem to have won public approval. Maybe it’s too much flavor then? Maybe it’s the almond-extract-esque complexity they carry? You’d think that would be a positive attribute: complexity. It must be the texture.
In the end, I’m going to let my fussy-pants daughters be the judge. They love them. I picked enough on this go to make a few pints of jam, and my 4 year old picked with me the whole time, filling her face rather than a bucket. She was full afterwards. My pickly little eaters enjoy them frozen as a snack, in their pancakes, in jams and syrups. And I guess I should be happy that not everyone digs them, otherwise they likely wouldn’t be there for me to forage for in our ravines and river valley.