In my estimation, we have reached the first important
season of summer. No, it’s not the
ordering of summer in terms of the months of June, July and August. It also isn’t the unofficial beginning of
summer as Memorial Day weekend. Nor is
it the official beginning marked by the summer solstice. Children and weary teachers may look to the
last day of school year, but the older you get, unless you are one of those
weary teachers, the less satisfying that definition becomes.
We can tell where we are within the seasons of the
year, not like the perceived linear preciseness of time, but by observing the
seasons within each season. And, I would
suggest that the most important seasons within the season of summer have to do
with the sense of taste. And, I would
further suggest, that in using that point of measurement, that we have entered
into the true beginning of summer, because the strawberries are ripe. Yesterday, Michelle and I went to our
favorite local strawberry grower who announced over the weekend that they were
open for picking.
It may seem to the observer that we bring home an
enormous number of berries for just two people.
But, the haul gets divided up strategically. Most of the berries get washed, smashed,
sprinkled lightly with a little sugar and put into quart jars for the chest
freezer downstairs. We store enough in
this manner that we can have a taste of summer right through the fall and
winter months. A bowl of strawberry
shortcake can go a long way towards boosting one’s spirits on even the coldest
of January evenings. Some of these
berries can also find their way into a jar of jam for toast and split-second
cookies.
The second allotment is a large mixing bowl of whole
berries that goes in the fridge for fresh eating. These can be eaten berry by berry, or sliced
with yogurt for breakfast, as a light dessert, or an in-between meal
snack. The only rule is to consume them
in a few days so they don’t spoil. And,
fresh strawberries never spoil in our house.
We will continue to refill the fresh-eating bowl over the next two weeks
of strawberry season.
The third division is a somewhat smaller bowl. Select berries that are fully ripe, firm and
nicely shaped go in this bowl. These are
destined for a fresh strawberry pie which features strawberries set pointed end
upright in a fluffy crème cheese base and then drizzled with chocolate. The pie is somewhat legendary. Before I was ordained and assigned to the
Quad Parishes our family belonged to St. Elizabeth Ann Seton parish which held
its annual summer picnic in late June.
One year Michelle made two of these pies to donate to the bake
sale. We walked into church the Sunday
morning of the picnic and brought them over to the bake sale table. The lady who checked them in looked delighted. Then, we noticed another family that we were
friends with and stopped to visit a bit before heading into church. Michelle elbowed me and pointed to the
windows that looked out toward the parking lot.
The bake sale person was headed across the parking lot with a strawberry
pie in each hand!
After Mass we stopped back at the bake sale table and
saw her. She confessed to Michelle that
the pies looked so good that she bought both of them and ran them home because
she lived just behind the church. The
next few years the same thing happened.
I guess after the inner reward of helping out the parish, the next best
perk of working the bake sale check-in table is that you get first dibs on the
donations as they come in. There may not
be a Heavenly reward for that, but it tastes good in the here and now.
By now you may be wondering what other seasons of the
taste of summer are yet to come. For me
– and that’s an advantage of using the taste calendar – you can adjust it to
your palette, the other two seasons of summer are tomato and corn on the cob
seasons. I still devote one of my raised
beds to tomato plants – two fresh eating varieties and three canning
varieties. For just a couple of weeks
each year we are reminded that all attempts in the produce section of any
market to sell ripe flavorful tomatoes is futile. Twist a perfectly ripe tomato from the vine
and bite into it when it is still warm from the afternoon sun, and tell me of a better way to tell what season it is.
The final season of summer is corn on the cob
season. In late August roadside stands
sell ears of corn just-picked that morning.
The kernels are plump and tender.
Michelle says that fresh corn is just and excuse to eat butter and salt. Maybe.
But the excuse is delicious.
You can see from my personal list that taste seasons
are not neatly spread out over equal periods of time. The period of time between strawberry and
tomato seasons is a period of waiting.
It is a time of ripening as the season and the year and life reach full
bloom. And the reality is that a plate of rich red tomato slices is kind of like seeing some maple leaves turned color
too early. Those last two seasons of summer overlap and they also signal that the end of summer is fast approaching. But such awareness just makes the season that
much richer, that much sweeter because it deepens our appreciation by inviting us just to remain a bit longer - as the two urged Jesus to do on the road to Emmaus. I realize that we do need the apparent exactness of time when there are places we need to be, but it may do your soul good to be content, when possible, in being in the season of a season. It is fitting because every moment is now for
our Eternal Father. Like Him, immerse
yourself in the now. And,
please pass me a piece of fresh strawberry pie.
Amen.
“Taste
and see that the Lord is good” Psalm 34:9
His Peace <><
Deacon Dan
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