Anyway, regardless, nothing says summer like strawberries. Lately, we’ve had some good ones from the grocery store, and cheap too. So we’ve been buying and eating them 2 lbs at a time.
However, the other day we had the opportunity to go strawberry picking and so we took advantage of the first sunny, though cool day to go and get some of our own. We geared up in clothes we could get grubby/stained in, rubber boots for the mud, sunscreen, hats, lunch, 50 dozen other things and headed out.
We were supposed to meet a group there, but for once, I didn’t get lost so we were pretty early. After the 100th “Can we start picking NOW, Mom?” in the space of 13 minutes, I caved and we started picking. We had to have a bit of a lesson on not sitting or stepping on the berry plants, not eating berries from other peoples' boxes, not picking the green ones , and distinguishing between a rock and a strawberry. Good grief.
We were half way through filling our box when some of our group started arriving. Mouse ran off to be with her friends and I’ll just say that I’m glad I decided to put the bright tie-dye shirt on her so I could see her running across the fields. Baboo decided about an hour in that she wanted to go home. Immediately. She walked to the end of the aisle and started for the car. I had to run to catch her before she truly wandered off. I was able to bribe her to stay a little longer with a snack and some mini bubbles I had in my bag. And the little yellow lab puppy someone had was a big draw as well. More than the strawberries were, I guess. Though when you’re 2, I can see the appeal of a puppy over a field of plants.
Once we had enough berries (4 lbs for us) our group got their lunches and we headed to the little shop to pay for our berries. We sat and ate in the sunshine, surrounded by corn stalks, blueberry and raspberry bushes while our kids ran around after the resident golden retriever, until we yelled “ICE CREAM”. Then all activity ceased until all children where thoroughly sticky from “Super kid”, “Moose tracks” or “Rainbow Sherbert”.
After much reluctant whining and mud walking, we got home and decided the best way to show these little berry gems our appreciation was to mash them and mix them into ice cream.
So, the following day, I made the ice cream base (almost like a custard), and then the girls smashed up 2 cups of our little berries.
We poured everything into the machine and then checked on the ice cream every 2.4 minutes. The excited pronouncement at each check point was “It’s almost near the top! It’s almost ready!” Lather, rinse, repeat for 30 minutes.
This kind of looks like some gory carnage.
While waiting take pictures of other produce.
Pears....
Our pepper plant...
Not only was this a fun process and the girls are at a pretty good age when they can be a part of this and appreciate where food comes from etc (and how much work it takes to pick berries etc), but for me it was a reminder of my childhood. I remember going strawberry picking with my grandparents. We’d bring our berries home, clean them up and make ice cream. We’d have the barrel with the hand crank and rock salt type machine and not the motorized version I have today, but my brother and I had fun cranking away as hard and as long as our skinny little kid arms could. There’s nothing so tasty or satisfying as that first delectable spoonful of creamy, cold ice cream. Mmmmm.
*Edited to add note to self... after allowing youngest daughter to use camera, WIPE OFF THE LENS. Otherwise, even though it's obviously sunny and warm and everyone is dressed in t-shirts and little children are cutely covered in strawberry juice, it will appear as though everyone is deeply surrounded by fog. Lots of sticky, slimey fingered fog. Sigh.
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