We ate fresh strawberries today. Fresh as in picked from a local farmer’s field and brought to our son-in-law’s birthday celebration. Oh my, were they ever a delicious treat! Haymaker’s sister plunked an entire flat = 12 boxes, what we used to call halicks when I picked berries back in the day.
(Poor quality picture taken by Ed on our cheap cell phone – which only gets reception when we’re away from home.)
I’m not a fan of strawberry jam, syrups, pies or any forms of strawberries except for freshly picked ones. Perhaps it was all those childhood summers of picking them for money, occasionally eating one as I crept along the row made me quite choosey about ripeness and flavor. There’s nothing to equal the flavor of a strawberry ripened to perfection right off the plant. These were just as I prefer them; a tad on the green side which makes a happy tartness. Steady Autumn rains moved into the valley yesterday. The coming week of cold rain will bring a quick end to this fabulous mid-autumn treat.
Haymaker’s mom had already whipped up some fresh cream with a bit of powdered sugar for her blueberry pies. Also perfect for dipping the strawberries. mmm