Strawberry Picking

We're at the cabin again this weekend and decided to treat Tory with a visit to the strawberry patch. Can you believe neither Andi or I have ever picked strawberries? I know! Deprived childhoods we must've had (I kid, parents, I kid).

We visited a strawberry patch just a few miles away from our cabin. This little farm was run by Amish women (at least I think so, there were dozens of them in the field picking berries). Andi bought two pails and they assigned us a row to begin filling our buckets.

I couldn't believe how beautiful, red and ripe the strawberries were on the vine! It makes you appreciate fresh, local produce when you see the quality before you (and makes you never want to buy another container of sub-par strawberries from the grocery store again).

Tory wasn't sure what to think of the strawberry patch at first. She definitely wasn't willing to put her feet on the soft straw between the rows. Andi and I picked a few strawberries and gave one to Tory to hold. She immediately squeezed the fresh strawberry with all her might and red juice squirted everywhere. Amateurs. Who wears white to a strawberry patch? Apparently Andi and I do.

I gave Tory another strawberry to feel and taste (but not hold or squeeze)! She touched it, smelled it and finally licked it - and loved it! You may be thinking, geez Heather, you're such a horrible mother for allowing your child to lick a strawberry right from the ground. Normally, I'd agree but I think there's something special about picking a berry and eating it right in the field. We used to do the same with mulberries when I was a little kid and it such a special feeling. Part of the experience, I say.

Once Tory got a taste for the fresh, sweet juice of the strawberry we couldn't keep her away. She started lunging for the pails and grabbing berries as fast as we could throw them in. I'm surprised, too, because usually Tory isn't a big fruit fan. I guess there's nothing better than a freshly picked strawberry. 

This afternoon, Tory and Andi took a nap and I decided to whip our strawberries into strawberry pie. The recipe called for baked pie crust and I only had graham cracker, but I didn't think it'd matter much. Except, an hour later after I washed, sliced and mixed together the ingredients, I had a nagging feeling they didn't turn out quite right. Andi swears they'll be just fine once the filling sets up, but it looks too mushy to me. I think the strawberry filling basically washed away the graham cracker in the pan. Sigh, I hope it still tastes okay.

We had such a great day at the strawberry patch, I fully intend to make this an annual family tradition. I can only imagine how fun it'll be for Tory to pick her own berries one day. I can't wait for the day she puts on an adorable, tiny apron and joins me in the kitchen to whip up something fabulous with our hard-earned pickings.