Strawberries, two ways

with a side of awe and wonder

hulled strawberries tossed with a spoonful of sugar, ready for anything

There’s a little market in the north end of the city, tucked into an old warehouse. I was there yesterday to stock up on strawberries and other gifts of the season. As I meandered through the produce I had a flashback to an earlier iteration of this space - Boland’s I think it was called - a place I once visited while shopping with my dad. He didn’t normally do the grocery shopping, but I have a clear, thrilling memory of following him through the tall aisles of this early wholesale warehouse - a store that sold to stores and somehow, regular customers like us, too. I remember slowing down in an aisle lined with boxes of Mackintosh’s toffee, Hershey’s Cherry Blossoms and other candies packed inside cardboard, inaccessible to my little fingers. It was an industrial Charlie’s Chocolate Factory, a mysterious cache of goodness, a child’s dream. We went home with a few boxes of licorice cigars, the thick black kind with tiny red candies on the end to mimic a flame. My dad would later offer the box around when guests came over, delighting in not one shiny black cigar but a whole box of them layered in rows and divided in parchment. They weren’t my choice; I hated black licorice, but somehow I understood that it was a treat from his childhood, a flavour so rare and prized in 1950’s Nova Scotia that of course he had to buy a few boxes. He was as delighted by the place as I was.

I had forgotten about the specific childlike feeling of awe and wonder that comes with the fluorescent-lit aisles of a tall, candy-stacked store. The 19th century author and naturalist John Muir wrote about the experience of awe and wonder in the face of grand natural landscapes like mountains, forests and glaciers. I would like to think that nature is the true source of awe and wonder, the way its majesty can catch in your throat, add a sparkle to your eyes or a tingle in your heart - but we can’t always control where or when we will experience these reactions.

Sometimes it can take place in the parking lot of Walmart.

You might remember¹ that we hosted four European and South American boys last weekend. I was unnecessarily nervous about the weekend. They were adorable. We ate fluffy buttermilk pancakes with blueberries and maple syrup. We walked through Citadel Hill, taking in the views of Halifax from an 18th century fortress. We explored the waterfront. We went out for sushi. And just as we were dipping Japanese soup spoons into bowls of miso soup, one of the boys turned to me and asked, unblinking, could please go to Walmart? “We don’t have Walmart at home,” they all said, hands clasped under their chins. “We would love to go.”

As mentioned, the awe and wonder began in the parking lot. They couldn’t believe the variety of cars in Halifax - the Mustangs, the trucks, the vintage skylark, the bright green Porsche with the owner’s instagram handle advertised on the window. I followed behind them, skipping a little to keep up with the pace and enthusiasm. Inside the vibe grew. It’s so big in here! So bright! It has everything! I followed them, running now, to the candy aisle. They each had a little money to buy treats for their upcoming camp. They touched packaging and price checked. They oohed, they awed. There were baby KitkKats! Oreo chocolate bars! Spicy Doritos! They packed their shopping bags with their treats of choice, then we moved en masse to the sporting aisle. Hockey jerseys! Hockey sticks! Shoes next to Stereos! Lego! Fellow shoppers, tired and pallid, turned to smile. They couldn’t help it; these boys were infectious. I spent the rest of the afternoon lapping up their enthusiasm, wondering how I could bottle it up for later.

Back to those strawberries that started this letter, the ones I bought at the market tucked inside the old warehouse in the north end of the city. I wanted to recreate a few strawberry moments from the weekend with the boys: a quick Friday afternoon strawberry cake² suggested by my friend Sally, and the Saturday night strawberry ice cream³ sundae party (covered with crushed Oreos and mini M&Ms, from - you guessed it - Walmart) inspired by my friend Andrea. The sense of wonder released by these recipes will be subtler than a young foreign teen beholding a luxury sports car in a sun-lit Walmart parking lot, but they will fill you with the satiated feeling of capturing the season in a sweet and meaningful way.

1. Flower Butter

2. Smitten Kitchen’s strawberry summer sheet cake - it’s a winner. As the recipe suggests, use more strawberries than you think. The more the better.

3. To make Andrea’s strawberry ice cream, combine 2 cups 35% cream, 2 cups whole milk, 2 cups hulled strawberries and 1 1/2 cups white sugar in a blender and blend until smooth. Pour mixture into an ice cream machine, churn then serve as is or topped with chocolate treats. Whatever fills you with the most awe and wonder.