At this time of year I start to go all a quiver. Not at the prospect of the festive season or summer days ahead. Rather it’s the thought of fruit: red, glossy and luscious that sets my heart racing.
From approximately mid-November until mid-January the gorgeous cherry is available. I’ve already spied some for the princely sum of $25 a kilo. And although the urge to satisfy my craving is strong I understand the value of waiting.
Cherries evoke wonderful memories for me...
My two younger sisters & I used the heart shaped fruit as earrings to complement our fashion statements from the dress-up box. And although we’re now adults, whenever I see the scarlet gloss of cherries I am reminded of our childhood days.
I also recall my parents growing a cherry tree in their orchard. I seem to remember it grew very well but the birds were more canny then my mum and dad. Despite nets and assorted paraphernalia designed to frighten away thieves only a handful of home-grown cherries made it into our mouths each season.
A decade ago I travelled to the USA for six months, on my first trip of independence. Holiday romance featured strongly and a new beau planned a trip to Lake Michigan. On our travels north we passed through Traverse City, the cherry capital of America. In July and early August, the countryside is dotted with stands, markets and u-pick signs offering cartons of sweet, dark cherries - quart for two bucks.
The Bohemian cut-glass bowl, received as a wedding present, has pride of place on the table during cherry season.
And I still recite, ‘Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor, Richman, Poorman, Beggarman, Thief’, with my cherry pips. The ditty, once thought, to help young lasses discover the occupation of their true love.
I like to gobble fresh cherries as they are, yet out of season I use sour morello cherries to make my late mum’s Banana & Cherry Flan. An unusual taste combination but one I assure you that works!
Of course it’s not all about memories…
Soon I hope to visit Japan, when the cherry trees are in spring blossom at the foot of Mt Fuji. And then there is the box of cherry liqueur chocolates I’m hoping for at Christmas.
This article was first published in CV Week, 18 November 2004
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