This last weekend I went
home to visit my parents...
It seems a lot of my columns start out that way. Maybe it’s
the 2-1/2 hour drive, alone, in my car. Maybe my best ideas come to
me when I don’t have to worry about making sure A, B and C get
done for the current deadline. Or maybe I write best when I feel happy
– and home is my happy place.
Anyway, I’m sitting here in the dining room watching my mom
in the kitchen where she’s hulling, cutting and smashing strawberries
for homemade strawberry jam. (I also love going home because ideas
aren’t the only thing that flow more freely – so do the
homemade food dishes and yummy treats.) Just so you know, I did help
with the jam for a few minutes. I even smashed 4-1/2 cups of the 5
cups my mom needed for her batch. But then genius struck, and here
I am utilizing the great technology that is the laptop.
I think we had to wash and cut at least 10 cups of berries because
they may well be the best strawberries I’ve ever had. Or, it
could be that they’re the first of the season. Either way, they’re
super sweet, red and juicy. It seemed like for every two my mom washed
and hulled, one disappeared from the bowl – right into my mouth.
Thank you Gary Bardenhagen for growing delicious strawberries.
You see, when your dad and grandpa are fruit growers and your grandpa
knows just about anyone there is to know in the industry in northern
Michigan, it really pays. Forget Hollywood connections or “it’s-who-you-know”
industries, farming is the one place where it really (and I mean really)
pays off to know your fellow growers.
I don’t know what summer would be like without the annual load
of berries. I love when my mom gets the call from my grandpa or grandma,
as it was this year.
“Your strawberries will be at your house at 5:30.”
And at 5:30, there they were – all 15 wonderful cases. You see,
when you know someone who knows someone, you be sure to call all of
your family members to see who needs what. Surprisingly, it was one
of my sisters who ordered the most berries – 6 whole cases –
also to share among her family.
Strawberry jam at our house also means fresh, from-scratch biscuits.
When my mom cooks, she cooks. (“As long as I got the kitchen
hot... ”) But a hot kitchen’s worth it when the fresh
biscuits come out of the oven just in time for the first fresh jam.
Mom always dumps a little bit of the leftover jam in a dish on the
counter. My favorite strawberry jam is the jam out of that dish –
that includes the foam Mom scraped off the top of the pan full of
jam. The foam is the best part.
But strawberry jam isn’t the only gem we get from other farmers.
We also get asparagus and tomatoes from men my dad and grandpa know.
I have a hard time eating asparagus that doesn’t get unloaded
from the back of my grandpa’s pick-up truck fresh off of Merle
Brown’s farm. And I surely cannot eat spaghetti sauce bought
off of a store shelf. I’ve been spoiled for so many years by
my mom’s “secret” recipe, fresh tomato sauce that
I can’t even look at Prego or Ragu without wishing I were home
to get the good stuff. And I know it wouldn’t be the same if
the tomatoes didn’t come from Fred Hawley’s fields.
And, my mom wanted to be sure I pointed out that the other beauty
of knowing all these farmers is that she doesn’t always have
to go pick the berries (or asparagus, or tomatoes, or... or... or...
) herself.
But not only do we know where we can go to get the best strawberries,
asparagus, tomatoes and other fruits and vegetables, but I always
know where to send my friends or acquaintances to get the best cherries:
Warren Orchards. (I know a lot of you out there grow great cherries,
but I can’t help that I think my dad and grandpa make the best
cherries.)
One of my hopes with this job is that I’ll get to know many,
many farmer-friends of my own along the way – and I’ll
be able to buy the best of the best fruits and vegetables.
I have never claimed to be a good cook myself, but I am a good helper.
And it looks like it’s about to pay off – the biscuits
are coming out of the oven, and the jam is gelling on the counter
just waiting for me to take a nibble. Mmm... mmm... there’s
nothing like that first bite. I promise I’d share if I could.
Unfortunately the power of the pen (computer) is not mightier than
the spoon.
But I didn’t only come home for the free jam and fresh berries.
I also came home to wish my dad a happy birthday. How cool is it that
his birthday is July 4? I couldn’t think of a greater day for
a greater man. This year he’s caught up on his spraying and
orchard work so he gets to take some time to enjoy his birthday with
his family. I feel bad that he seldom gets to really have fun on his
birthday. I know there must be a lot of you farmers out there who
are so busy with harvest and/or making sure everything on the farm
is ready that you don’t get a chance to celebrate. So this one’s
for you – cheers! And, happy birthday, Dad!
And now it’s time to start packing up my computer, clothes and
the three pairs of shoes I bought when I came home. I’ll also
be taking home with me some scrumptious fresh, strawberry jam –
I’m just hoping it survives the 2-1/2 hours in the car.
