Strawberry Distraction

It has been a tough year in the world where I spend the majority of my time and in the other worlds that are squeezed into the rest of my waking hours. And sometimes the non-waking ones as well. Often, the overall stress is just too much and I just want to get as far away as possible from conferences about the impact of the economy on non-profits and how to survive it, emergency meetings about raising money to keep the school open, stress at home about paychecks and bill-paying, funerals for loved ones at the natural end of their lives and funerals for beautiful boys who should still be with us, worried conversations with teachers and guidance counselors and therapists, back pain and stress and the myriad attempts at relief. I WANT IT ALL TO STOP.

Deep breath.

Strawberries.

They are not even my favorite fruit, but something about them is different, special. Something about strawberries takes me deep inside myself where it is quiet and things are simple and have not yet become complicated. It is late spring in Brookside, N.J. and there are tiny wild strawberries on a small hillside above the little brook that flows through the backyard. They appear each year and bring with them the beauty and reassurance of the changing seasons, and their own innate delicate sweetness. They will not be cheapened! They cannot be purchased!

It occurs to me now that over the years I have always had a couple of strawberry plants bearing these tiny Alpine gems in pots or beds and fraises des bois continue to have a place in my life to this day. We have several plants in a sunny bed where we live now and they bear fruit around the time of Nora's birthday. She is sure that they are just for her. There are precious few and they are more valued because only one or two ripen each day, and then there is an end to it. Sometimes there is only one and we share it.

I've never had much success or put any real effort into growing the larger varieties of strawberries. We buy them in season at local stands in Changewater, Pittstown and Oldwick and at the supermarket when all else fails. But there is a firmness, a toughness and tartness to the supermarket varieties (surely required to survive the truck ride from California or Central America) compared to the local straws that are so wonderfully fragrant, soft to the bite and unbearably sweet on the tongue.

When Maxwell's self-service stand started selling strawberries earlier this month, I got over there quickly. Too often my timing is off and they are cleaned out. I was going to buy a quart or two at $5 each but only had a $20. When this happens, I usually write crazy notes to the farmer (who I have never met) about how much I still owe him and when I'll come back with cash or how much he owes me in produce because I have overpaid. Instead, this time somehow I ended up leaving there with four quarts of strawberries.

I found a recipe in Anna Pump's "Summer on a Plate" cookbook that called for two quarts of strawberries. It was unbelievable - the reddest dessert ever with intense, intense strawberry flavor. I will never think of "red" in the same way again! Sadly, I did not take a picture so I will have to make it again. We melted a bar of semi-sweet Ghiradelli chocolate and made chocolate-dipped strawberries with the third quart and kept the fourth on hand for eating plain. I made batches of chocolate-dipped strawberries several more times in June. Oddly, I had never made them before this year. Nothing is easier or tastes better. We had them again for Nora's birthday along with a Strawberry Shortcake made by Mom.

Chocolate-dipped Strawberries

1 bar (4 oz.) semi-sweet Ghiradelli chocolate or your favorite

1 quart local farmstand strawberries

1.) Wash the strawberries by filling a clean sink with cold water and soaking them in it a bit. Swish them around to remove all grit. Lift the berries out of the sink and onto a dish towel spread on the counter. Dry gently by placing another towel over them.

2.) Place a sheet of waxed paper on a cookie sheet.

3.) Melt the chocolate in a small double boiler over simmering water. Stir with a wooden spoon until melted and glossy.

4.) Hold the strawberries by the stems and dip them in the chocolate. Place them on the cookie sheet and let cool or refrigerate for 1/2 hour before eating. They are best eaten the same day.

Friends Who Feed Me

Friends who feed me are in a special category. For years after we had the Cafe, it seemed that no one invited us over to eat and if they did, each dish was accompanied by a disclaimer about the food. I recognize that it is intimidating to cook for a chef, even one who specializes in home-style "cuisine de femme," but I think that because I do cook, I appreciate their efforts even more.

Melissa and Hafnaoui

In late June we were the happy guests at an Algerian mechoui at the home of friends Melissa and Hafnaoui. A mechoui features lamb slow-cooked on a spit over an open fire. The lamb went on at 11 a.m. that morning and was still turning and being basted with an olive oil and rosemary marinade when we arrived around 4 p.m. Now if this were France the men tending the beast would have started drinking promptly at 11. Even though the cooks did not imbibe in alcohol, things did get a little boisterous later on as some of the key players in the production jostled each other for the most desirable pieces of meat.

As a veritable mechoui veteran by now, I should be used to and flattered when a stranger rips off a good morsel with his bare hands and then hands it to me to be eaten. That's what I get for hanging around admiring the beast! And it was so good.

Dinner consisted of the lamb (of course), grilled chicken, halal turkey hot dogs, Hafnaoui's amazing hummus and tabouli, various other salads and an assortment of incredible, home-made sweet nut and honey phyllo pastries plus everything provided by the many guests. We partook to capacity and enjoyed every bit of it - what a treat!

Alyson

More recently I spent a wonderful, relaxed evening with Melissa and Alyson down the road. The occasion was the proper celebration of Melissa's birthday that had passed unnoticed amid the chaos following the removal of Caroline's tonsils (her youngest). We sat on the deck as night fell and the fire flies came out. It was a really thick and dark New Jersey summer night but with little of the traditional humidity.

Alyson cooked up one of her amazing rich desserts, this time a berry shortcake with obscene mounds of whipped cream. Melissa brought chocolate-dipped strawberries. I got off easily with a bottle of Mumm Cordon Rouge that has been waiting in the fridge for many months for just such an opportunity! We talked and laughed and told stories by candlelight - I feel so lucky to have found these ladies.

Liz and John
The same weekend we had dinner with Liz and John in their great new place in Brookside - a beautiful old home on Main Street next to the post office and across from the Community Club. It is always a pleasure to hang out with these two and this was a rare evening in that we were without children. We sat on the back patio in the garden and enjoyed chilled prosecco. Through the backyard I could see the old house where I grew up down the road. I forget how close everything is in Brookside. It felt good to be back.

Dinner was simple and so good - my favorite kind of meal. Big pieces of chicken marinated in yoghurt, lemon and herbs, skewered with chunks of red peppers and red onions and grilled over charcoal. This was served with a really garlicky cucumber sauce, white rice and a salad of mixed greens tossed with Liz's vinaigrette. I love that vinaigrette. Dessert was coconut and raspberry sorbets.

In this crazy world, cooking and sharing food with family and friends has become a lost art along with letter writing and telling time. When I break bread with friends it is almost like stepping out of time and into an altogether different and welcome zone. Thank you!