What’s red and white and red and white, besides the Canadian
flag? How about strawberry shortcake, strawberries and vanilla ice cream, or a
lovely strawberry sabayon?
Despite this cool wet June that hasn’t exactly been
strawberry or human weather, early local strawberries are all on board, waiting
for you to pick up a basket or three in time for a snazzy red and white dessert
for Canada Day.
Thank goodness commercial hybrids have finally gone back to
flavour. Remember a few years back when we were all marching back to the stores
to return our baskets of crabapple-sized strawberries that were watery,
tasteless, and half-destroyed with brown rot? Hooray for growers moving on to
better and better-tasting producers, though nothing can match the wild fruit.
I remember eating wild strawberries plucked straight from
the fields of west-central Alberta when I was a kid, thinking, yep, if I was a
bear, I’d sure be gobbling these up, as I nervously looked over my shoulder to
watch for competition. Though they were ever so tiny, their taste was so sweet
and powerful they were 10 times more satisfying than their commercial cousins.
Besides the much smaller, tastier berries, the wild
strawberry plant has no runners like its cultivated cousins — and here I say
“cultivated” not “commercial” for some valiant gardeners still defy the many
pests and fungi that can attack strawberry plants and plant a few in their gardens
or flowerbeds.
Without runners, the stems holding the berries on the wild
plants do look like straw piled higgledy-piggledy, which some believe is the
provenance of the name ”strawberry.” Others think, as I did when I was a kid
and saw my grandfather mulch the plants with straw, that that’s where the name
came from. But that practice is fairly recent and could not have influenced the
origins of the name.
Still others suggest the “straw” in “strawberry” is from an
old Anglo-Saxon verb “strea” meaning “strew”, referring to the look of the wild
berries as being strewn about, or the way the achenes (pronounced ay-keens,
accent on the second syllable) — the tiny dark flecks most of us call seeds —
look scattered over the surface of the berry.
Not to confuse you, but by scientific definition those
achenes are the actual fruit: a small, dry, indehiscent one-seeded fruit with a
thin wall, to be exact, as in the achene of the sunflower, for a more familiar
example. In fact, strawberries, as well as blackberries and raspberries, are
really not berries at all; rather they are brambles. (Tomatoes are actually
berries, as are lemons — but let’s not make everyone too crazy and leave that
for a later column.) As for the strawberry, botanically speaking, it is a
greatly enlarged stem end or receptacle in which are embedded the many smaller
fruits, or achenes.
So what we enjoy is a large juicy, fleshy stem-end
receptacle. As you can see, “berry” sounds much more appealing, and suffice to
say that the “straw” part of the name has nothing to do with the taste, wild or
not.
For we lucky folks in North America, where the strawberry is
native, and for Europeans, who first cultivated it, the luscious taste and
fragrant aroma of strawberries have made them a favourite subject in everything
from desserts to poetry to jam and still life paintings for centuries.
As for this weekend, I can think of about a thousand ways to
enjoy strawberries on Canada Day or anytime. Here are a few easy ones:
Fresh and dipped
: Wash strawberries well, especially
up under the calyx (the little green leaves on the top). Most people leave the
calyx intact when they wash them so water or fruit and veggie soap (recommended
for non-organic, commercial strawberries, one of the most sprayed crops on the
planet) doesn’t get inside and the juices don’t get out.
Depending on how you serve them, you may or may not remove
the calyx, which makes for a handy handle especially if you’re dipping them in
a bit of sugar or honey and yogurt as you eat. Either way, dry them well so
water doesn’t dilute the experience. If you have a bunch and don’t have time to
air dry them, try a
gentle
turn in your
salad spinner.
If you’re dipping them in chocolate, every drop of water
must be removed. Water and chocolate don’t mix — even a small amount will turn
your chocolate dull and cause it to “seize up.” For a quick, splashy dessert or
treat, use good quality chocolate, cut in small pieces, or chips and place them
in a glass dish. For semi-sweet, microwave on medium for about three minutes
for six ounces. Watch and stir it often. When it turns shiny and soft, remove
and stir until it’s smooth — it won’t turn into a liquidy puddle in the
microwave.
Otherwise, use a double boiler on the stove on medium heat
so you don’t scorch your chocolate. Be careful you don’t boil the water, and
that no steam gets into the chocolate. Stir as you go.
Stove-top is better if you are dipping many strawberries,
which you’ll have to because you’ll eat every other one. Place those you don’t
eat on wax paper on a baking sheet, then into the fridge to cool. Far too good
and easy.
Strawberry shortcake with sweetened buttermilk
: Strawberry shortcake is a classic
indulgence. But if you don’t like the richness of whipped cream, try sweetened
buttermilk — and don’t, repeat don’t, let the concept put you off. It’s
delicious and simple to make: add a quarter cup of sugar to each cup of
buttermilk and stir until it’s dissolved. You can also add a dab of vanilla.
If you can’t make a shortcake, buy an angle food cake, or
make one yourself from a mix. Or ditch the cake and just go for sliced
strawberries and sweetened buttermilk. Yum.
Lactose intolerant people can often enjoy sweetened
buttermilk, too, provided you use real cultured buttermilk, plus it’s perfect
with all kinds of fruit.
Freezin’ season
: Local strawberries are at their
peak right now, so get extras for freezing. The trick is to
not
wash them before freezing. Just lay them
out and pick out the bits of leaves and things. Double bag and tightly secure
them in freezer bags. When it’s time to enjoy them, grab as many as you need,
wash them thoroughly (which helps to thaw them) and remove the calyxes. Even if
you only have room for one or two little bags in your freezer above the fridge,
guaranteed you’ll be glad you did on a stormy, grey November day.
Glenda Bartosh is an award-winning freelance writer who
makes one jar of strawberry “fridge” jam at a time.
