Simple Sunday Strawberries
On a Sunday evening, when life finds you alone in your apartment with a quart of strawberries, there’s only one thing to do: make mini-strawberry-almond cakes. I imagine that this is what they do in the refined culinary country of France, and since two weekends ago, I had exactly one quart of strawberries at dusk on Sunday, and I was in desperate need of a charming escape, I preheated the oven.
That weekend had been a full one. Thursday kicked it off. That was the day before my 29th birthday, and in the bathroom at work, I found my first gray hair, coarse and crimped, sticking straight up at me in the mirror. Friday, my birthday, I worked nine hours, and then made vegetable soup. Between emails, I chopped celery and carrots. Finally, I wrapped the pot in a thick towel so I could carry it to my boyfriend’s house to spend time with him and his two small daughters—for the third time ever.
When I arrived, the girls were caught between stories of Passover, Earth Day, Easter, and ice cream. Soup didn’t matter, but the friend coming for a sleepover did. Saturday was the fourth day with the girls, and between a play date, a failed Easter egg hunt, and the hugs and tears that came with both, I’m sure I grew a few more gray hairs. A trip to France was probably the least of what I needed.
But that Sunday night, when I pulled the golden cakes out of the oven, the hope that one whiff of sugary pastry would transport me to a sweeter place quickly dissipated. Instead, I looked at the deep red berries, tucked into a nutty crumb, and thought to myself, I’ll freeze those for another day.
As those cakes cooled on wire racks, I rinsed what remained of my quart of strawberries. I pulled sour cream from the fridge and brown sugar out of my baking cupboard. Water droplets still clinging to the strawberries, I picked them up by their leafy green tops and dipped them into the cool sour cream and then the golden crystals of sugar. The combination tasted like fresh-churned, strawberry ice cream, and after a weekend of so many unexpected experiences, those familiar tastes finally let me sink into the sofa.
In the weeks since the discovery of my first gray hair and my fourth date night with two girls under the age of 10, I’ve had a chance to talk to my boyfriend. I wanted to know, what had he been thinking that Sunday evening? It turns out that I wasn’t the only one longing for simplicity. After simultaneously playing the role of boyfriend, dad, and friend, he needed strawberries, sour cream, and brown sugar just as much as I did. But since the BF is a frozen-pizza guy, rather than a fresh-strawberry man, my boyfriend spent his Sunday evening considering which activities to eliminate in our dates with the girls.
Now we’re aligned: During future weekends, we’ll focus on the basics. No nights of Kazia’s vegetable soup or strawberry-almond cakes. No kids’ evenings of sugar and slumber parties. And this all makes me very hopeful that the next time I bring out strawberries, sour cream, and brown sugar, I might not be the only one to enjoy them. Those dipped strawberries that taste like ice cream are perfect for a sweet family that wants to keep things simple.
Strawberries with Sour Cream & Brown Sugar
Serves as many as you’re willing to share with
It’s almost impossible for dessert to get much easier than this. This treat is three simple ingredients, with practically no preparation needed—and it still tastes as delicious as strawberry ice cream and looks as elegant as a chocolate-covered strawberry.
Sour cream for dipping
Brown sugar for dipping
Strawberries, cleaned
Scoop the sour cream and brown sugar into small bowls. Holding the strawberry by its leaves or stem, dip it into the sour cream and then the brown sugar. Enjoy immediately.
For a printable recipe, click here.
