On Sunday evening while I was cooking some chicken outside on the coals, I picked strawberries. Because the leaves are so full, there were more ripe red berries than I had anticipated, hiding beneath them, and soon I had an overflowing handful. These joined another small bowlful in the kitchen, saved from two days ago.
I hulled them (does anyone say this anymore?) and shook some brown sugar over them. My plan was to let the sugar draw their juice out and then to mix them into some lightly whipped cream for dessert. But I didn't get that far. I tasted one. I had picked them very, very ripe, the kind of ripe that would crush if transported to market. They were dark red, through and through, fat with juice, their scent strong. I ate another, and another. Standing in the kitchen, Vince in the next room writing, cat asleep on the floor beside me, chicken outside cooking.
I ate them all, all alone, before dinner. They were the best strawberries I have ever eaten.
I am a hundred times happier with this year's strawberries. Perhaps because I have three times as many as I did last year, thanks to their prolific runners, but also because I am leaving them longer on their stems.
I think I have always picked or eaten them too early. I think that is why I have never liked strawberries. Now I know. Leave them till deeply, darkly red. I can't wait for more.
a good tale of strawberries well eaten~!
ReplyDeleteyou are a fruit grower extraordinaire!
I cannot get mine to give up the ghost. Perhaps it is a man plant or something? i did jut pop a sweet soft ripe fig into my mouth from the only thing not neglected in my feeling really sorry for itself little patio.
In any event, i'm glad you like strawberries now!
I'm amazed by how productive your strawberries are. Mine are doing nothing! What's the deal?
ReplyDeleteYou just have to rub it in, don't you! sounds so decadent - eating in the kitchen while Vince is writing in another room. he probably wouldn't have liked them anyway. Right!
ReplyDeleteI remain jealous!
Now my mouth is watering! The only thing better is very ripe mango. Ask Estorbo. *grin*
ReplyDeleteBonbon - I thought giving up the ghost meant dying. Man strawberries, that's hysterical! Maybe more sun? Are yours an ever-bearing variety or one-shot only (quite normal)?
ReplyDeleteWow, a fig, from the first crop - mine all fell off and the second one (on new, green wood)is still green and hard.
Thomas - how odd. I don't know. And I forgot to answer your fig question but again I am at a loss. Why would it not make fruit? Food? Sun? Stress?
webb - I know. Small comfort is that Vince is not mad about strawberries, though he is mad about the fool I would have made. I threw good judgement to the wind. I wolfed.
Donatella - he keeps telling me. Stomped all over me last night for some more.
I don't blame you. Sometimes we do that.
ReplyDeleteI ate all the sungold's off the vine. As I was telling the story yesterday I saw GG's face.
She had thought the birds ate em.
Oops.
xo J.
It is the cook's prerogative to sample while he/she cooks. My those are mouthwatering!
ReplyDelete