Ah yes – May is National Strawberry month. Here in the Carolinas we get
lots of luscious
strawberries – a deliciously welcome change from the
sometimes partially white
and tasteless things that are the winter offerings in the supermarkets.
Some of the most wonderful, hugest strawberries I ever had
were the daily fare in restaurants and hostelries in France and Italy in the
spring. I think the deliciousness of them was akin to the deliciousness of hot
dogs at the ball park: location, location, location. But the best tasting
strawberries ever, big or small, were right outside our door when we lived in upstate
New York – that is when we could beat the beasties, the chipmunks, squirrels
and birds, to them. I didn’t plant them:
they came, along with my favorite Johnny-jump-ups, from God. They came in on
the wind - or as a ‘gift’ from those same beasties - and planted themselves
here and there in the garden. When they began to ripen I’d get out there early
in the morning and harvest a handful. No bigger than maybe a baby lima bean,
they were absolutely delicious on our cereal in the morning. I had better luck
with the wild strawberries than I had with the wild blueberries or
hazelnuts. Those grew in the woods
further from the house. I’d see that
they were almost ready to pick, but when I remembered to get back to them they
were gone! I do believe the vigilant
beasties deserved them more than I did.
Tomorrow the Fresh Produce Club has its Market Day here in
Sun City Carolina Lakes. I’ll be taking
my empty quart boxes back to refill for this week’s supply of local
strawberries. I’ll be so sad when
strawberry season is over – but the fresh peaches will soon follow.
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