I’ve spent so much time lately putting up cherries, I haven’t actually been able to enjoy that many right now. Well, of course as I’m pitting bowls of them I need to quality check them. One out of every 10 cherries is pretty fair. Cherry season is a part of the summer I look forward to most but this year it’s been cut short. Extra curricular activities and weekend plans has allowed me to visit my favorite greenmarkets much less frequently than I would like. Here’s hoping there are still some left next weekend.
Considering the recent surge of strawberry recipes you probably assume I’m a strawberry fiend. Not true. Strawberries are a sign of spring, summer and harvest to come. I coo over them not because of love, but because what they represent and what will soon follow. Cherries are my true love. It pains me to see out of season cherries. Occasionally I’ll succumb to the pressure of deep red foreign cherries, toying with my eyes and stomach. My gluttony is rewarded with sourness and lack of flavor. Cherries are only good when ripe. Fresh and ripe. Off the farm ripe, not early picked and intended to ripen over the 3000 mile journey from California ripe.