First of the season, fresh strawberries and extra thick cream (saves having to whip it). Added a tiny bit of sweetener on to the strawberries. I have one that doesn’t have a bitter aftertaste.
When I was young we used to go and pick our own strawberries. You would spend ages in a field searching under leaves to find the berries. Often they were padded underneath the plants with straw to keep the berries from trailing on the ground. I think that’s where they got their name? Summer days when most of the strawberries missed the punnet and fell into our mouths instead. When music by the beatles played out of little transistor radios.
And when we got home? Strawberries with either single cream and white sugar. Or if we hadn’t got cream in, evapourated milk… Heaven…
six weeks ago I ordered our hanging baskets from a little nursery in the countryside. It’s actually based at a small farm near Silverdale in Newcastle-under-Lyme. It’s set back off a country road and is basically a little parking area surrounded by greenhouses and shaded concrete platforms, each of which is covered in garden plants. Most of the normal plants seem to have been sold but we took some clematis, begonia, a rose and other plants as well as the hanging baskets. We have been going there for about six years, and each year we get what we need for the garden. Now it’s a case of rearranging plants and hanging the baskets up. You can see we’ve gone a bit mad. But as we haven’t been spending much lately it did mean we could afford it.
