Reds..

Strawberries are the easiest peasiest thing in the whole wide world to grow. 

They are prolific in fields all around England, wild and farmed, gardens, small plots of land... They're consumed by the gallon load at Wimbledon, Glasto, wherever. They are also growing out of every pot available on my balcony and purchased at any farmers market.  They've been served up in Prosecco today, on a glorious hot sunny day in the back garden. And mascerated with balsamic vinegar , pepper and sugar to be dolloped generously on egg submerged fried bread in the morning. Or for my two Yank guests, served up on French toast with that funny dusting sugar that makes me choke. I talk and snort with laughter too easy which is dangerous around that powdery sweet stuff. I prefer the egg dunked fried bread version with good grilled bacon. Not the streaky overfried kind, but proper British rashers! Just sharing my hospitality (and germs). I have fond memories of mum and dad and the family-famous "orange ceramic casserole pan" which was hauled out of the top of the cupboard every year, weighing half a tonne, and over which my dad hawked, carefully controlling the sugar temperature. Delicious sweet alchemy.  Meanwhile mum wondered just how many pots of jam we would wind up with and where to store them. Or who to endlessly gift them to with a smile and the distinct sensation that your friends, family and neighbours had all been gifted jam so often they probably had a cupboard overflowing. Gallon upon gallon of strawberries were unloaded from the car after an overly enthusiastic all day pick. I loved that cooked sugary strawberry smell. I did try to recreate that delicious memory last year and make some jam but it was a disaster. You need to focus which I didn't.  I had to throw the casserole and burned-in contents away and sustained a third degree burn into the bargain. No patience. Stuck my finger into the volcanic red gloop for a taste. I can make cheese though. Not strawberry cheese. Although,.. that could work.... 

Comments

[wisp]

I once lived less than a kilometer from a fruit grower. Strawberries, blueberries, cherries... she'd let you loose in the fields to pick, but didn't count what you ate in the process. So it was pound for pound with lips stained red. Delicious substance, the strawberry. A primal touch, really, of how the earth provides for all our tastes. Keep trying, Alison. You'll find the secret to that jam. I'm confident of it.

[Buck]

I'm with you on the powdered sugar thing, Alison. I can't think of a single worthwhile use for that shi'ite. Gimmee real maple syrup on MY French Toast, please.

Strawberries on the side would be nice, too. With LOTS o' clotted cream. :D

[Laura]

I love stawberries. I could eat my weight in them. And have tried.

[Laura]

That's *strawberries. Don't you hate it when you hit "post" before typo checking? I could just choke myself with my bear hands when I do that : )

[alison]

Oh I've been envisioning choking people with my bear hands a lot lately :D very satisfying. I have en evil though.. like say about my sister's boss, or journos, general ReTs? Then I imagine it and hey presto I'm laughing to myself like a madwoman!

I don't think I can make strawberry jam guys, seriously. It takes considerable patience to be an alchemist, Wisp and I've none of that! I did just find an amazing recipe for strawberries and crab though. Mmmmm

[alison]

oh ffs ..."thought" even...an evil "thought"!! hahaha Dontcha just hate it when you hit post and don''t spell check! ;)

[wisp]

Strawberries and crab... ummmm... I'll have to give that one some thought.

[Gordon]

"and over which my dad hawked, carefully controlling the sugar temperature."

did a bit of snorting myself when I read that line. "Hawked" has another meaning in American English. ;-)