This time of year my kisses are a little sweeter, I have a flirtatious bounce in my mud shoes, and our garden exudes a contagious sensuality that can only mean one thing… strawberry season is upon us.
I was an impressionable 15-year old when the movie How to Make an American Quilt changed my innocent world forever.
One movie scene with a smoldering hot strawberry farmer seducing Winona Ryder with—you guessed it—a strawberry, instigated my irrepressible lust for the soft curves of this sweet fruit… (and tall, dark, handsome men.)
Oysters need not apply.
Store-bought strawberries in January do little to whet my appetite, but sweet and juicy locally grown strawberries in early June make me weak in the knees.
Three Junes ago, when still living in my own apartment, I bought about 15 strawberry runners from a local farm market and planted them in window boxes on my little patio.
Doug and I had just started dating, so you can just imagine my delight when I returned from my summer vacation to discover that not only did this courter of mine keep my patio plants alive, but he had built an ingenius space-saving pyramid for my strawberry boxes.
He must have realized that the way to my heart was through my strawberries. Smart man. I deemed him a keeper.
Those same plants and their offspring are now our strawberries and make their home in a 4’ x 12’ raised bed in our garden. They are producing an astonishing large harvest for a seemingly small area. Hallelujah! (Maybe it was the bunny fertilizer.)
We're getting about 3 quarts of strawberries every couple of days. Our secret? Rich black topsoil and composted horse manure.
I’ve managed to incorporate strawberries into nearly every meal I’ve eaten for the past two weeks.
I’m pretty sure that my dirty blonde hair is now strawberry blonde and the cause of those red-eyes in all my photos is no light reflection phenomenon. I am the essence of strawberries.
One of my favorite fresh strawberry recipes is, believe it or not, a cocktail. A fresh strawberry mojito on a sunny June afternoon is like a romance novel in a glass.
Here’s my recipe for pleasure:
FRESH STRAWBERRY MOJITO
Juice from 1/2 of a fresh lime
10-12 fresh spearmint leaves, torn
3 fresh voluptuous strawberries
2 teaspoons of fine sugar
2 oz white rum
Club soda
Mojitos in the making
Throw the lime juice, mint, 2 strawberries and sugar into a 12 oz. tumbler glass and muddle with a twisting motion to release the essential oils in the mint and lime. (Muddling is a fancy bartending term for mushing. There are real muddling tools, but I just use the handle of a wooden spoon.) Fill the glass with ice, add the rum, and then top it off with club soda, slices of the remaining strawberry, and a sprig of mint for garnish. The amount of rum you add can be adjusted for your taste (and your to-do list). I don’t normally say this, but I find this strawberry mojito to be just as pleasing in a virgin state. (A virgin mojito may also increase the chances that you’ll return to your garden chores after reaching the bottom of your glass.)
Cheers!
Uhh Oh. My shadow has learned just how tasty strawberries off the vine can be.
I would love to try to grow strawberries. These look fantastic!!