FIRST STRAWBERRY

Memories, the good ones, the ones that glow; when you get old enough, they are the icing on whatever else is good. I remember when my son lived with me in the late 90’s, on 60th Ave. in Allendale, Michigan. We lived in a duplex with nice yards that our landlords kept freshly mowed. Our landlords were Dutch and what they did best was to keep things clean, neat and orderly. They did the mowing because they wanted it done exactly on time and to their standards. We couldn’t plant flowers, shrubs, vegetables, anything in the yard; nothing to complicate the lawn mowing. There was a small flower bed between the front porch and walk but it was full before you could spend $10 on it. There was a small slab patio in the back with one rule: Keep it neat. 

On that patio we planted everbearing strawberry plants in a dozen 12 gallon containers. From spring through summer and into the fall we had fresh berries. They were for grazing, 2 or 3 at a time, nearly every day. Sometimes you had to devour a hand full. Late in October on a warm weekend, I had no reason to be on the patio but there I was, checking out fall color and just being outside; hadn’t seen any fresh berries for several weeks. Don’t know why I bothered but I bent over and moved leaves around just to see. In the last pot I discovered a single, ripe strawberry not much bigger than a big acorn. I plucked it, slid it, stem, hull and all into my mouth. It was perfect. I crushed it against the roof of my mouth with my tongue and the taste went off like fireworks. That kind of memory lasts forever 

Nearly 20 years later, I’m not so fussy about my yard but then I’m not Dutch either. I created a vegetable garden along the fence and of course you know there would have to be strawberries. Maybe it was just latent, dèjá vu, patio berries that influenced me but I put them in containers. So I’m checking them every day now. In the ground about six weeks, they are making berries. Today I plucked the first ripe berry. It only took two bites and it was gone; no explosion in my mouth, not any better than the Mexican berries you get at Farmers Market. But it was the first of many (I trust) that will find their way to my strawberry crusher. There is a really good salad with kale, strawberries & feta cheese. I’ll make some soon if I can’t find it on a menu somewhere. But if I need berries for a recipe I’ll go to the market as my grazers are just that; to be grazed in the moment. Some memories are just too sweet to let go. I’ll remember often and recreate if I’m lucky. It can happen any month; the unexpected burst of flavor and endorphin rush is always a possibility.