Spring! It’s coming. Eventually. You have my word, lovely Mainers. This winter has been one for the history books with the volume of snow, the high winds and sub-degree temps. All this requiring layered clothing and many snow days. Off work, staying in our PJ’s, snacking on Doritos and catching up on our latest Netflix binge.
As the snow begins to melt and the ground gives way to thaw, we can look forward to the smells of spring and the excitement of early daffodils. And mud, yes, mud too. Wear your galoshes. Does anyone even really wear galoshes anymore? I wonder.
When I think of spring, I look forward to the opening of berry farms. Pick your own! Be careful not to eat as you go and miss out on what you can bring home to create beautiful pies, cakes, short cakes and tarts. A friend of mine took her grandchildren to a pick-your-own strawberry patch last year. They are all quite little. They enjoyed picking with their Gram. They relished the treat of pick and eat, too. The evidence glaring on their sweet little faces and shirt fronts. Perhaps next year’s outing will be mini golf and ice cream instead. Their shirts will still tell a story.
My downfall has always been a good pastry. My middle-aged waistline has told on me once again, as I begin to partake of a nice strawberry popover topped with crystalized sugar. The experience is worth it, however. Devil may care.
But this year? I dream of strawberry short cake. You know, the one’s with the nice ripe, juicy, delicious strawberries. That deep rich red color has set in and you can taste it by admiration and imagination alone. They don’t need any sugar. They are so delightful, that I must stop writing now to wipe the drool cascading from my mouth. Isn’t that a sight? Excuse me for a moment.
Do you remember Grammie’s biscuits? While growing up, a happy place was visiting my grandmother, with her flour dusted floral apron with the little frills at the straps. She had a prideful collection of beautiful aprons. They were a style. A hail to her talents as baker and of style fashionista. Okay, perhaps I won’t take it that far. She kneaded the biscuit dough while the smell of yeast filled the air. Her salt and pepper, curly, after-50 obligatory short hair started to fall in her face. She blew the hair away from her eyes and began to roll the dough out. She used a drinking glass to cut the biscuits out. She’d carefully pick them up and gently place them on the baking sheet. It was important they keep their perfect circular shape. Presentation was everything. Well, perhaps not everything. Because, they must have a light fluffy airiness, and yet be dense enough to satisfy the biscuit beast. i.e. me. I can still smell them. Just glorious.
Whipped cream! What is a strawberry short cake without the whipped cream? We always used Houlton Farms dairy all-purpose whipping cream. My Mum had one of those green heavy kitchen aide mixers. She’d pour the entire carton of cream into her steel bowl, lock the top and turn it on. All in one fell swoop. She was a pro. I just knew it. I wanted to be like her when I grew up. As the cream began to whip, she’d collect her sugar canister and the real vanilla. Because, you know, that imitation stuff, well, it tastes imitation. She always knew when to stop whipping it. Never soupy. Never thick and buttery. But sweet, smooth, silky and wonderfully complimentary to my strawberries and biscuits.
Assembly. That’s the part of the process in which I was always allowed to participate. I’d clasp my hands anticipating the process, trying to contain my excitement. Spring had finally sprung. I could shed my ski pants and winter boots and belly up to the best strawberry short cake known to man. Because Mum and Grammie were the best and that was that.
The first half of the biscuit was set gently down in the bowl. Then those luscious berries. And the strawberry juice. Let’s ladle a little of that for the biscuit to sop up. A dollop of whipped cream. The other half of my biscuit. More ripe sweet berries. Another plop of cream. To conclude this work of art, a few strawberries on top to make it pretty. Sit back. Admire. Then dig in and destroy. The sweetness was addicting and worth its weight in gold. The balance of flavors is spot on. I’d look around to see if anyone was watching. Nope. Good. Lick the bowl. That was the best!
The Central Aroostook Chamber of Commerce wants to appeal to your love of strawberry shortcake. In June, we host an entire day of strawberry shortcakes. More than 3,000 of them! We have the strawberries, biscuits, whipped cream, bowls, spoons, aprons, volunteers. Its spring! It finally arrived in true fashion, so, we must celebrate with the springiest of treats! Order today and relive a memory. ~LaNiece Sirois is the Executive Director of the Central Aroostook Chamber of Commerce, serving 23 communities in Aroostook County, Maine