I was still half asleep when Mike gave me a bowl of steaming oatmeal. Yummm he makes the best breakfast. I happily spooned up what looked like a big red, juicy strawberry and popped it into my mouth. But even in my semi-awake state I knew something was wrong. I picked up the next strawberry piece and looked closely at it. Yes it looked just exactly like the strawberries I remember picking out of my grandmother’s garden when I was a kid. I couldn’t eat enough of them, as they were sun warmed, sweet and just a little crunchy. The taste, which is like nothing else, swarms your mouth and goes down with sweetness. Yes, you could trust those strawberries. This strawberry which is now in my hand, however, looks ripe but just like the one I just swallowed, I bet it is mealy and only has a bare hint of the taste of a real one. I smell it. It smells like a strawberry. I eat it. Nope, that is the last one of those I think I can enjoy.
It must be those childhood memories that keep us eating fruit and vegetables of today. The tomatoes hardly come close to the ones you pick out of the garden and eat like and apple, saltshaker in hand. Tomatoes in a restaurant often don’t even have the right color.
Grapefruit anywhere but where it is grown is a painful experience, even with sugar sprinkeld on top. Pineapple away from the islands is a full on mouth pucker. In order to package and ship produce the big farms have had to make our food a ghost of it’s real self. And yet, possibly because we remember those strawberries of our youth, we spend a lot of money and time searching for that true taste again. This summer I am going to travel to the farms in the area and buy fresh peaches right off the tree, melons from the field and greens that are really green. Happy summer to you all.
Causes Linda Hunter Supports