How Sweet it is to be Dry, Dry, Dry.

This is the third year for our little strawberry patch. We started with fifty plants of the variety “Jewel” and today there must be a couple of hundred, at least. I haven’t done much weeding, just enough to keep the berry plants ruling the space. I haven’t fertilized beyond the compost at planting time and the decomposing mulch (straw, mostly). And I haven’t watered. At all.

Early in the growing season, we had plenty of rain, and our first pick of berries on June 06 were definitely influenced by the rainfall. The fruit were of good size, about 20-30 grams, and they were of fine appearance; and I have to admit a bit of pride owing to the excitement Rebecca and the kids exhibited upon this first harvest.

But a serious drawback to being experienced and reasonably knowledgeable about fruit, is knowing when the quality is poor, fair, good, really good, and outstanding. When you know what a particular fruit is supposed to taste like, that knowledge can spoil you, make you hard to please, make you a bit on the snooty side….

I rated this first picking of my own strawberries between good and really good, but closer to good. Certainly far better than anything shipped 2,000 miles or more, and arriving here looking pretty but being pretty much without juice and sugar, and possessing only a faint taste of the flavor attributable to strawberries.

Still, I like my strawberries firmly in the “outstanding” category, and it was not until the last picking yesterday that I had my first truly excellent strawberries of 2007. And it’s all about being dry. When it’s dry (as in no rain for 2-3 weeks), fruit becomes more intensely flavored. Its juices are not diluted by too much rain (or irrigation). So the flavor is intense, the natural sugars, high. Vintage fruit years are dry, dry, dry.

To eat world-class fresh strawberries out of hand is an experience impossible to forget. It is a rare experience for most. It is an experience making one think about the days when almost everyone living within the Temperate Zone had access to locally-produced fruit, like fresh strawberries. And if the conditions were dry, dry, dry, then there is no way to forget the experience. What the local foods movement needs more than just about anything else, is more and more people experiencing the intense flavor, texture, juiciness, and freshness of local horticulture and pomology. I can tell you, good fruit is addictive—when you experience some, you want more of it.

Wouldn’t it be great if all we had to do to get it, is visit our local grocer?