Last weekend, during our yearly Open Garden Day, a visitor to our gardens , noted the absence of fruit on our strawberry plants, the ones that the critters got to before we even had a chance to taste them, and waxed poetic about reminiscences of strawberry pies. With an unexpected free day in our hectic gardening schedule we dashed off to the local pick-your-own strawberry farm and loaded up on 15 pounds of strawberries.

Pell farm Strawberry Field, North Haven, CT

Strawberry felon,..er, I mean fellow.

Andrew does quite a bit of cheating, or, rather, he feels the need to test the quality of the goods that he’s harvesting to make sure he’s selecting only the ripest fruit. Very reasonable.

One of many bowls of freshly picked strawberries.

I spent the rest of the day hulling, cleaning, freezing, making strawberry-rhubarb pie,

Strawberry Rhubarb soup..er, I mean Pie.

and then Strawberry-Rhubarb jam. ( Why didn’t I think to make  Strawberry daiquiris after that marathon session?). The strawberry-rhubarb pie was gone in two days and I think the “Rhuberry’ jam (or should it be called Strewbarb jam?) will become our next favorite, after Rhubarb-Orange Marmalade. If you’ve the opportunity, get out there and dive straight into the pick-your-own, seasonal produce. It’s a luxury that may not last for long, but, as long as it does, it’s an anchor, and a lifeline, to our agricultural, nutritional and epicurian well-being. Bon appetit!