The other day my mum reminded me what a special treat it was to receive fresh strawberries when I was growing up. My grandmother used to bring them to us — along with a pot of cream.
The strawberries were always freshly picked and delicious. The first punnets of the summer created the most excitement but, in what seemed like no time at all, strawberry season was over.
Nowadays strawberries are available all year round in the supermarkets and appear twice the size they used to be. Often they are flown in from thousands of miles away and, in my opinion, they rarely taste good.
In New Hampshire on Sunday Dan and I got to enjoy some strawberries that were just like the ones I remember (Dan and Jack joined me in NH for the weekend).
We found locally grown strawberries at a farm stand in New London. We ate them with Greek yoghurt and raw honey; Dan found honey on tap at the local Co op.
Back at home I have enjoyed some remaining strawberries for breakfast — topped with some weeds picked at my allotment.
A bowl of fresh strawberries, yoghurt, and honey topped with Yellow Wood Sorrel provides a great start to the day.
live. enjoy. repeat.