Taste of Spring

Spring has fully arrived when the fields are full of waxy green leaves and sweet ruby red jewels ready to be plucked.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve call the farm repeatedly; hoping we can glean.

A few more rains.

A little more sun.

It should be soon, they say.

When we finally drive to the farm we rush into the open air in pairs. Each of us cannot help but sneak the first taste of the juicy fruits before any harvesting can commence. That first bite is the catalyst into spring.

Even though the regret of wearing just one more layer contradicts any evidence of warmer delicious days ahead; one by one we experience the flavor of spring.

After mulling the pulp of sweet juicy strawberries over our tongues, we return to the present moment as though from a trance of spring thoughts— budding florals; succession planting; a fruiting kitchen garden — and begin frantically gathering as much as we can possibly carry.

When one of us unearths a clusters of fruit they rejoice. To have uncovered such treasures is the prize. They hold a berry triumphantly in the air as evidence for all to see. Each of us discovering one strawberry slightly more ripe and wonderful than the one before it.

Who can fill their crate to the brim first is a friendly contest. Then chatterings of the creations to come follow suit. We salivate as we consider Daddy’s jam. Chilled bubbly drinks with a touch of muddled fruit. Mama’s tarts and shortcakes.

Visions of tasty goodness dance in our heads as the girls wobble down the rows under the share weight of the loaded crate. Eventually they wandering further from sight dancing, singing and racing about. The boys and I tediously comb through the row to ensure we haven’t missed any ruby pots.

Each season has distinct flavors connected to them. In the kitchen, embracing what grows together and when it is ready to be harvest makes the most satisfying eating experience. Eagerly, I desire to learn to cook and bake this way.