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A tiny red burst of heaven

I know I have raved before about how much I love California.

But this pretty much sums up my love in one happy thought: farmstand strawberries.

This afternoon we were on our way back from a race weekend in the Central Valley. We had a fun couple of days, with Dave riding in three road races and me spectating and handing off water bottles and sneaking in hill-free runs where I could. (My cold and sinus infection are much better, thanks.) But it was also taxing, and we were feeling quite sun-baked by this afternoon. And we found out just as we headed back to San Francisco that part of the Bay Bridge had also been a bit baked, which threatened to complicate our trip home.

Because it was a beautiful day, and because we weren't in a hurry, we decided to avoid freeways and take the more scenic surface roads to get back home. And what do surface streets in the Central Valley bring? Roadside farm stands! In April!

I hope you live somewhere near a strawberry field. Because you probably know that you just can't buy strawberries like these in a store, even a really fancy one. The berries that go to stores have to be picked before they're totally ripe so they don't go bad before they get sold. And they're refrigerated, which is a shameful thing to do to a sun-ripened berry. You will never get a perfect strawberry from a place with four walls and a roof.

These strawberries were perfectly ripe and red and sweet, fragrant, picked today, still warm from the sun, and flawless in every way. We paid $9 for half a flat -- that's $1.50 per well-heaped pint. My only regret is that I didn't get a full flat to make jam.

Ohhhhh, they are delicious.

I'm afraid I may eat strawberries until I make myself sick.

April 29, 2007 8:41 PM