Savouring Strawberry Season
Let’s be honest. We’ve all done it. I know I have, and I can’t absolutely promise that I won’t slip up and do it again. But there’s no better example of “imposter syndrome” than those giant red strawberries on display that so many of us are drawn to in the winter months. Like wasps at the end of the summer we’re desperate for a hit of sweetness and colour; but imagine the familiar letdown of sampling a huge strawberry dipped in Belgian chocolate, only to be met with the snow-white crunch of a raw potato.
My eldest son once received a rock tumbler for Christmas. The stones rattled and turned in an enclosed dome and while I know this is an unfair comparison, it’s always reminded me of the journey many fruits must endure on their way to reaching our shelves. Strawberries may have been successfully engineered to arrive alive and looking their best (all year round), but there’s no substitute for the long, slow kisses that come from the sun. It’s worth noting too that local organic strawberries — luscious, heart-shaped pillows, black-red all the way through — are still the ultimate, if you can find them. An elderly neighbour of mine proudly grew his own each year. When I was young, he would pluck a few from the garden, rinse them gently with a still-warm hosepipe before toppling a few into my cupped hands, soon stained sticky red.
Truly, they needed no further adornment. But for many, strawberries and cream are inseparable companions.
In England, Wimbledon’s tennis championships — which also happen to coincide with peak strawberry season — have claimed this as a signature treat since the late 1800s. Wimbledon only uses (very) local strawberries from an ancient family-owned farm, picked on the same morning they are to be served. In 2024, a stunning 13,241 liters of cream was spooned over 2.5 million berries. Clearly, this is a serious and delicious tradition!
The ancient Romans believed that strawberries offered a powerful antidote to melancholy and perhaps they were not wrong!
Many Ontarians may also have special memories about strawberries, perhaps in the form of attending Strawberry Socials or berry-picking as a family. There’s also the warm scent of Strawberry Shortcake baking with its pillowy biscuit topping or the annual anticipation of a pink-hued pool-side Margarita. Years ago, many households would recognize the hot sugary smell of homemade strawberry jam bubbling away on the stove — as well as the distinctive burning of any that managed to escape the pan. Some still insist that quality, freshly ground black pepper over sliced berries is just the thing to both enhance and counteract the sweetness.
Fun fact: my son discovered that the steely wires on our old-school hard-boiled egg slicer are ideal for making short work of endless strawberry slicing. This is a recommended, safe and amusing task for younger children desperate to help in the kitchen or for that enthusiastic dinner guest who also wants to help but cannot be trusted after that one last glass of Pinot Grigio … if you know, you know!
I’ll never forget the unexpected pleasure of discovering that we could still access Ontario strawberries during those dark depressing days of the pandemic — curbside — from kind local growers, eyes smiling above their masks. The ancient Romans believed that strawberries offered a powerful antidote to melancholy, and perhaps they were not wrong!
The celebration of a clean, bright taste — and one that is worth waiting for — is where strawberry season truly comes into its own. Savour them deeply while they last. And although there are certainly a few cheffy ways to approach strawberry “maceration” (think orange liqueurs, balsamic vinegar), you might be surprised to learn that yet again, generations of mothers already knew what to do: Take an all-purpose knife and roughly slice some strawberries into a shallow bowl. Sprinkle with sugar (as much or as little as you think) and walk away. Thirty minutes to an hour later, the berries will have softened and created their own intensely flavoured syrup. Drizzle over ice cream, spoon over meringues or into scones, or fold into plain yogurt. (And since strawberries offer hefty amounts of both vitamin C and phytonutrients, I think we can all settle down about the sugar here …)
That’s what I’m talkin’ about.
As well as a lengthy career in public library systems in Canada and the UK, SUE SUTHERLAND-WOOD has written for numerous publications. Her short essays have won national awards. Read more from Sue at her Substack, Everyone Else is Taken (EveryoneElseis-Taken.substack.com).
