Strawberries and whipped cream: that was dessert last night. Elin was over and we finished up the first Quebec strawberries that I’d bought on Saturday as sort of a Father’s Day present for Lee. The berries were small but good: usually the great abundance of this delectable fruit begins about St. Jean Baptiste Day or June 24. But a few farmers at the Marché Jean Talon had them—for a price, of course. They will be cheaper this weekend, for sure, but it was such a pleasure to eat them NOW.
When we were in France we ate strawberries from the South West of France, as well as raspberries and melons from Spain. They don’t count as local fruit, I expect, but when you’re travelling it’s hard to be sure you’re eating locally. At home there is no excuse. And recently the wisdom of that was brought home in the salmonella-on-tomatoes problem in the US. Our local greenhouse tomatoes haven’t developed the same trouble: the risk of contamination on shorter supply lines is less.
Besides local stuff almost always tastes better. If you aren't starving why eat what isn't good, after all! Local lettuce, asperagus, herbs, radishes and green onions were all at the market, too. The mint is up in our garden too: time to make mint sherbet!
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