Having limited time to ponder and write due to an insanely hectic schedule this week, my three- year-old grandson had a tonsillectomy so I babysat my one-year-old-grandson over the long weekend, I am just going to share a short, but sweet episode of a day in the life of my younger sister and myself from way back when.
It was going to be a hot June day in Massachusetts and the strawberries were ripe. We woke up early and arrived at a local “Pick Your Own” strawberry farm by opening time, 8am. If you are going to take the time to pick your own, you should get there early so you can pick the best ones! In well less than an hour, we had picked six quarts of red, plump, juicy strawberries.
We got the tray of containers home safely then carefully washed and hulled the strawberries. We spread them out on a paper towel to dry and sprinkled them ever-so-lightly with crushed cane sugar. We then placed them into a large Tupperware container and onto a refrigerator shelf.
The day went along as most weekends with children and dogs. By evening, after dinner and a little clean-up we were ready for desert- strawberries, of course! I don’t have to tell you the wine had long ago been poured. That first bite of the cold, sweet yet tart strawberry was mouth-watering, but added to the tartness of the cabernet, we felt we were missing something.
“Chocolate,” my sister exclaimed. “We need dark chocolate.”
We dug through her pantry and she had nothing chocolate. (Give me a break, a Red Wine drinker with absolutely no chocolate in her house…unheard of!)
We became obsessed with finding some chocolate. Surely, there was some chocolate somewhere. We went through her car, searched the fridge, dug through junk drawers (well, you never know!)
Suddenly, something struck my sister. She stopped rummaging through drawers and ran up the stairs. Did she know where some chocolate was? I followed her up to my niece’s room. She pulled a white chair with a pink seat cushion out from under a white desk. She stepped onto it and reached to the top of the shelf and pulled down a large woven, pastel-striped Easter basket. And there, in the middle of pink, crinkled-paper Easter grass sat a 16 oz. boxed dark chocolate Easter bunny.
We hit the mother-load! (Yes, Easter had been in March, but 3 months was nothing, as long as it was that year’s Easter bunny!)
My sister, being the chef that she is, quickly set up a double boiler while I chopped the chocolate to tiny bits. As I slid the chocolate bits into the top pan, she slowly stirred in coconut oil and a wee bit of Karo Syrup.
In ten minutes or so, we were sitting out on her deck, dipping our fresh strawberries into warm, rich dark chocolate which went perfectly perfect with our Cabernet.
Kyle Ann Robertson
Retired, mother of four, grandmother of two, dog lover, yoga attempter, avid writer and wine drinker!