We had fresh strawberries the other day, tiny little wild red berries that burst with flavour. My partner found them growing in the field behind our house and picked enough to make a cup, enough for a handful on our cereal, and then another handful cascading over our cappucino frozen yogurt later on. On Canada Day, we had fresh cultivated strawberries from Nova Scotia. My mother dressed them with a sprinkle of sugar and a generous dollop of whipped cream.
I think of that scene from the Lord of the Rings when Frodo can’t remember the taste of fresh strawberries, and I wonder how I would describe this taste — how can remember my first bite into a fresh strawberry that has never seen a refrigerator or 40,000 miles in a truck, this burst of flavour that is so instantly delightful in the mouth? If I was Frodo, I think I would have said: I need a little help remembering, please let me taste a another one…
Taken on June 22, 2009
Note: We are going to Nova Scotia today for a week’s vacation. I’ll be back to post again next Monday.