Strawberry season is finally here in Ontario. For me strawberries mean so many different things - they are the first of the fresh fruit we can get in the area, and they are the harbringer of so many other fresh treats to come in the following months. They signal the start of the jam making season. They indicate that summer is here - woo hoo They also cause me to stop and remember my grandmother who died of a heart attack after picking strawberries from her garden.
One of my first summer tasks once the school year finished (generally around June 30th) was to go to a local pick-your-own farm with some friends. Pick berries for a few hours and then go home and drink strawberry daiquiris until I passed out. It was the perfect way to start the summer.
Now I am far too lazy to pick my own. I justify it by saying that it isn't worth the savings to crawl around the straw covered earth picking my own berries. It is so much easier to pull up at the farm, pass my money to the attendant, and drive off with a flat of berries.
With the flat of berries I purchased last week I made four batches of jam: strawberry, strawberry rhubarb, strawberry banana, and a wonderful strawberry balsamic jam with crushed black pepper. The latter is amazing with cheese! YUM
We had strawberries in our breakfast cereal every day. I made strawberry ice cream and we had strawberry shortcake.
Apparently I went too far because the other night Paul, when asked if he wanted a strawberry dessert at the restaurant, just looked at me and said: "no, I am so sick of strawberries!"
I shall remind him of that when it is January and all we can get are green berries that were picked two weeks previously at a farm in CA!
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