For some reason, I have it in my head that strawberries should arrive here in New York by early May. But these past few weeks, every time I’d go to the farmers market, I’d only see those same sad baskets of apples and pears that have been there since last fall.
“Where are the strawberries?” I would ask. “Be patient,” said the farmers. “They’ll arrive.” But it’s hard to be patient when Poteet, Texas had its annual strawberry festival in early April, and some friends back home were telling me that their strawberry plants were already fading. And yet, still no sign of strawberries here.
Last week, however, I walked to the market and the chalkboard that announces what’s on offer said, “Strawberries! Strawberries! Strawberries!” Clearly, everyone was as excited as I was. It being early in the season, there was only one farmer selling them and the line was endless. When I finally reached the front of the line, the farmer advised me to eat them that day as they probably wouldn’t keep very long. Of course, that was not a problem, and I went home and ate the whole pint in one sitting. The next day, I returned and bought more.
My first inclination was to make strawberry shortcake with my haul. This past weekend, however, it was so hot that turning on the oven to make biscuits was out of the question. So I made ice cream instead.
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