Summer's Arrival

There are few advantages in my play book to the scorching hot days of Summer, but fresh fruit is one of them. For example, my father-in-law says there's nothing worse than biting into a bad orange. I concur. Because when they're bad, they're truly awful. Wretched, soggy strawberries however have to be a close second.

Since I live darn near the Tropic of Cancer (south Houston ;-) I have the option of purchasing strawberries nearly year around (notice I didn't say fresh strawberries). Reminds me of that saying "Just because you can doesn't mean you should." Identifying the worthy of purchasing I've decided is an art form. Since my oldest enjoys them so, I've learned how to detect the contenders from the pretenders. First, (& thank you for asking) the obvious-choose locally grown. Second, I have found the larger & darker the better. Finally (& this is the most tricky & perhaps most important) the skin should sport a waxy, shiny, plastic looking texture. If you follow these steps you could find yourself enjoying a wonderful summer evening treat such as I used to indulge in during my adolescents just before bedtime...which almost always involved a bowl of cheerios, freshly washed & cut strawberries to garnish on top, & a rerun of Magnum P.I. just after the ten o'clock news. Ah the memories. Maybe summer's not so lousy after all. Am I boring you?