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| Not Bergman Worth; Still Good |
As I wrote on the Market Blog thisweek, strawberries are one of those things that cause people to claim
“_________ doesn't taste the same as they used to. In his book, How
to Pick a Peach, Russ Parsons reminds readers that there is a passage
in Steinbeck's East of Eden, where two farmers complain strawberries
don't taste the same as they used to. The multi-generational East of
Eden was published in 1957, the growers are reminiscing about the
turn of the 20th Century. This complaint that things don't
taste as good as they used to is now a 100 years old.
Of course, the chain smoking Steinbeck
whose tastebuds were rendered useless by years of nicotine abuse,
rather have his characters blame environment, technology, the passage
of time, or the faulty relay of emotional memories that can imprint
fresh and real passions on long expired events.
Sure we live in polluted cites, which
has to affect how we taste as much as Steinbeck's beloved cigarettes
messed with his perception. Many of us grew up in suburbs whose immediate family roots were urban rather than rural or the old country and we never had the experience of grandma's farmhouse. And for the most
part, most of us have never tasted a berry straight off the runner.
Berries come in pint containers from grocery stores.
Berries have been cultivated since the
17th Century, when new world and old world strains were
mixed by human hands, meaning everything that came after is due to
the intervention of humans. So how is it that we have this feeling
that what we are tasting isn't real, natural, innocent? Why do
people swear heirloom tomatoes are better than others when there is
no definition of what heirloom is. Sometimes older varieties taster
better do but not always and when they do, it might be because they
were hand picked, not packed in 1 ton boxes, raised with a minimum of
inputs or grown with organic methods, it might have little to do with
the variety. Why is it the most memorable wine not the one with the
biggest price tag, it is the one that comes when we travel to far
away places and order from that little restaurant near the beach
after a day of sun and it tastes so good you want a bottle to bring
back home, only to find the locals don't even bother to bottle it, or
age it, only enjoy it.
I saw a tweet from one of the market
growers this morning saying they were picking today's strawberries
for Market at 5 am. They were probably chandlers rather than the
foodies preferred hood variety. They are probably soft and fragrant
and they might even be better than anything we ever had in our youth.

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