For the Love of Strawberries

Shotguns heard at 2 a.m.? Not all is as serene as it appears.

“ A recipe has no soul; you, as the cook, must bring soul to the recipe.” Thomas Keller

April heralds ruby red strawberries just ripe for picking. Thankfully, farmers across the land sow thousands of rows each year and welcome folks into their fields for a fresh taste of their bounty. I’m not talking about those tasteless, anemic ones that travel across the country, losing their souls somewhere along the way. I want you to know about those waiting for you on sun-kissed farms. They are a gift you must not ignore.

For decades, I watched my mom stock up on berries from Dempsey Farms and make her famous Strawberry freezer jam. She gave this to neighbors and friends who patiently looked forward to it year after year. I can still see her wicker basket by the back door filled with jars of jam, ensuring a taste of springtime in the Lowcountry right up until Christmas.

It isn’t just about the picking. It’s about being in the countryside and living in this glorious moment. Watching our kids run freely through the fields makes me realize more and more that our children are being completely cut off from old farms of any type, or learning how our food is grown.

There are dozens of ways to prepare strawberries, but nothing compares to that explosion of tart sweetness that bursts forth when you pick one out in the field and bite into that first plump, strawberry warmed by the Carolina sunshine on an April afternoon.

Don’t be fooled, all is not as serene as it may seem. Battles are fought in these tranquil fields, battles against nature by men in bib overalls holding shotguns.

“Hungry pests roam the fields at night looking for something to eat,” says Erik Hernandez, farm manager at Mt. Pleasant’s Boone Hall Plantation. “You can’t make electric fences high enough, they will run right through it.” Five deer broke through his triple-layered fence one year and ate the crowns off about 1,000 plants. No berries that year. Young bucks will take the beating to get through the fence, leaving a trail for others to follow.”

Farmers have to get creative. Ambrose Farms hangs lights in the trees near the fields. “When the wind blows, it looks like someone has a flashlight,” says the proprietor, Jimmy Livingston of Wabi Sabi Farm. “I also use radios left on all night to scare away the deer - any music with a lot of brass.” He got fired up recalling the 1980s encounter he had with a flock of cedar waxwings that moved across the land feasting on his berries. “Hundreds of them just would not leave. Shotguns were the only answer. I walked around with my dog and shot guns into the air at 2 a.m. “There’s not a night that I’m not in the fields two or three times,” continues proprietor Jimmy Livingston.

Tides of Tradition goes behind the kitchen door. This is the recipe section of this newsletter for Founding Members and paid subscribers. Thank you for your love and support in continuing to make this newsletter possible.

Aunt Maggie’s Strawberry Ice Box Cake