Friday, March 4, 2011
There were organic strawberries from Florida at the market earlier this week: not the shiny mutants shipped from California -- obvious hollow-cored fakes -- but deep-red, shyly alluring beauties designed to inspire sun-starved desperadoes dreaming of spring. A mirage, of course; nothing like the berries we hope to pick from the garden in June.
Sweetened with a little sugar and a drop or two of a syrupy aged balsamic vinegar, though, they carried just enough memory of warm earth and soft breezes that if you closed your eyes, there it was: the scent of freshly-mown grass, blue skies, peonies swaying in full voluptuous bloom. In Michigan, in March, it is as close to summer as we're going to get.
Posted by anno at 9:09 AM