June is Rose and Strawberry Month

June is rose and strawberry month, it’s true. The sun is out, the rain comes down and everything is growing by inches. I found my first rose blooming on the same day I tasted my first fresh local strawberry. When I bought those first strawberries, I just popped them in my mouth as is. Then it was time to have a little shortcake and now every morning I’ve been eating them with my granola. That red color and flavor is wonderful. They carry the sun’s rays with them to my table.
Growing up, we were lucky to have our own strawberry patch in the backyard. I remember the plants blooming and, when the berries started to appear, we planted sticks with tin foil tails to keep the birds away. When the berries reached the perfect ripeness, we would gather them fresh for our supper table. During the month of June, when they were producing, we had them plain, with ice cream, in pie, with shortcake or in mousse. I liked decorating the top of the pie with curlicues of whipped cream.
After coming here, my mother took us to the fields to pick as many as we could to eat and to store for the winter. We would drive to the strawberry patch in the early morning, before the heat of the day became too much to bear. We grabbed the baskets and chose a row. Our fingers would find the reddest, ripest berries and slowly, our baskets would fill as our backs and our knees stiffened. In a couple of hours, we had picked enough for our family. We froze them, whole or sliced, to have in the middle of winter. We also made strawberry jam until the kitchen was sticky and sweet. The smell of those berries would fill our noses for several days and our fingers would be stained reddish green from stemming and slicing. Later, a jar of that jam would be opened when guests came for a meal and then we spread it on our breakfast toast. The frozen strawberries often made their appearance on Sunday as a special topping at the end of the meal.
The end result of that hard work was always pleasure.
What I also remember about those picking days was the time spent with family members going to the field, picking, and then talking and laughing in the kitchen as together we put away the berries. Those moments working with food created community. Later, I enjoyed similar times with friends I stayed with and with my own family. Now that we are down to two at our house, I haven’t gone picking. I just enjoy the ones I find locally and “go strawberries” for a couple weeks every summer. This week I’ll make the strawberry pie I grew up with and when I take that first bite, I will again savour the season of strawberries and roses.

Strawberry pie

1 1/2 quart of strawberries
3/4 c. sugar
3 T. cornstarch
1/2 c. water
1 T. lemon juice
1 t. butter

Line a baked pie crust with whole or halved large berries. Crush remaining berries and add to sugar,, cornstarch and water. Cook, stirring constantly until mixture is clear and thick.
Remove from heat. Add lemon juice and butter. Allow to cool before putting in baked crust. Top with real whipped cream or serve with ice cream.