Strawberries

There is no way to describe with words typed into this digital landscape the way a pot of thick, bubbling, strawberry jam smells. That is an experience I wish I could share with all of you, from the words on this blog to your noses. In the middle of June, when you find yourself sweating, standing over a heavy bottomed silver pot of strawberries and sugar, bubbles rolling up through the bits and pieces of fruit and seeds, you find yourself thinking about the one thing you can’t get away from—the smell. All the expert candy makers, all the factory equipment that mechanically produces our suckers and gummies, and all the artificial ingredients masquerading as strawberry flavoring in this world can’t even come close to what a simple brew of freshly picked Ohio strawberries and a little bit of sugar can create. As I stood over this pot, stirring until the perfect jam consistency was reached, I began to think of strawberries as June’s quintessential comfort food.



Now, those who know me well know that there are a few food rules to which I strictly adhere, most involving fruit and vegetables. One of these rules I have put in place for myself is that I absolutely, positively, no chance in a million years, eat a strawberry that wasn’t grown in the state of Ohio, and even then it has to be from pretty darn close to where I live. Okay, call me a food snob or whatever it is you’d like to say about that. But before you write that idea off, go to a grocery store and pick up a quart of California strawberries (just for example’s sake), then go to a local market and pick up a quart of locally grown, freshly harvested Ohio strawberries. Place one grocery store strawberry next to one market strawberry. Look at them. I guarantee you the Ohio strawberry is an eye-popping shade of candied red, and the grocery story strawberry—while looking vibrantly red in the store—now looks sad next to your “masterpiece-of-fruit.” If this test alone isn’t enough for you, then just go for the gold and bite into each of them. Not only is the flavor dead on for what your wildest dreams of what a strawberry should taste like, but the texture is juicy—yes, juicy. There’s a good chance your locally grown strawberry was harvested within 24 hours of when you bought it, and that means it ripened to its fullest potential on the plant, and that means it’s full of lip smacking strawberry juice. When push comes to shove, there’s just no comparison between the two, Ohio is a clear winner.

Why, some of you may be asking, is a strawberry the quintessential comfort food of June? Well, first off, it’s just about the only thing that’s growing right now. I mean, there’s lettuce, but who thinks of lettuce as a comfort food? No, the strawberry is America’s white flag for passage of spring over the finish line and summer is just getting the engine started. Go to any corporate restaurant, and you’ll see that as of April, strawberries were back on their menu as a seasonal favorite—I’ll leave the irony in this alone. Strawberries are the first arrival of fresh fruit for many of us. We find ourselves again delving into memories and sitting on our porches, patios or decks with bowls of cone-shaped red berries, studded with seeds, juice running down our fingers as we pop one after another into our mouths like popcorn. We think to ourselves that taking our small children out to pick buckets of strawberries is an excellent idea because they are so much closer to the plants then we are, and inevitably, we end up picking and they end up playing. We invite friends, family, and neighbors over for strawberry pie, strawberry shortcake, or just plain old strawberries, perhaps heaped over a slice of pound cake or a scoop of vanilla ice cream. We dip them in chocolate and suddenly become the most popular people on the block. We whir them into smoothies, cream them into milkshakes, and smash them into jam. I don’t know about you, but it seems to me that Americans can often be caught “red-handed” enjoying our favorite seasonal fruit. So head out to the markets and farm-stands, or go pick them yourself, and take advantage of the quickly passing season of our ruby-red, Vitamin C and potassium packed, plump, juicy, comforting, sweet strawberries.


The strawberry fields at Secor's Nursery in North Perry. I have found these to be the best strawberries in Northeast Ohio.


My Mom. Also known as my partner in crime on these little food adventures.


Bubbling jars of processing jam. It's a hot job, but someone's gotta do it.


The finished jars. I have enough jam to last me until next summer, because I am a pioneer at heart and clearly cannot access strawberry jam unless I make it myself.