RecipeMuncher

I remember when I was a teenager–sometime between 14 and 16 years–my parent’s garden provided a plethora of courgettes. I asked my piano teacher if she wanted some–her eyes lit up accepted. The following week I arrived with a shopping bag of carrying several kilos of squash. The week afterwards she gave me two loaves to take home.

The next week I arrived with a double load of zucchini (my parents insisted) and she looked…umm…bemused but accepted them.

The next week I had one more bag of veg and she mused aloud about home gardeners overrun with zucchini…I stopped bringing her courgettes that year.

It’s not as if my parents weren’t aware of the rabbit-like proliferation of zucchini, but something was obviously amiss in their patch that summer.

I can’t pinpoint the exact reason why I prefer yellow courgettes to green ones, but I do. Not sure if I’ve convinced myself of its superior flavou…

Somehow, even though we’re in the midst of smog alert season complete with the type of humidity that lets every ion of petrol-emitted pong hang in the air like undershirts on the neighbour’s washline, everything seems to smell a little better this time of year.

No wait, it’s the two kilos of local strawberries I picked up at the farmers’ market.

It’s amazing how these sweet and juicy little berries can fragrance a space, transforming it from soulless, bean-counter approved and cinder block-reinforced to something that seems a bit more human and a lot more comfortable.

June and July are when the local strawberries ripen, giving all of us a quick boot to the backside as a reminder of what strawberries should taste like. All year long we get imports that don’t quite cut the mustard in several respects (flavour, texture, price) so when the local producers and farmers appear with punnets, baskets and flats of fresh and tasty berries, more than a few of us…