A taste of summer

When I was a young I spent a lot of time at my grandparents place. My mother and stepfather used to go my grandparents place every Saturday night to play cards. Plus there was usually some overlap between the end of the school year and the end of fishing season so I used to go to my grandparents place everyday for a week or two after the school year ended. At the time, my mother and several of my cousins use to work at the fish plant (I work there myself years later). My grandparents place was only a couple of kilometers away from the fish plants. It was close enough that we could hear the foghorn go off indicating it was time for breaks but more importantly when it was lunch time. They didn't get a lot of time for lunch but it was long enough to run to the car, drive to my grandparents, throw themselves at the table, fill up and turn around and run back to the car and back to the fish plant. Lunch, or dinner as it's called back there (what most of you call dinner we'd call supper), was usually something warm and filling and involving some form of meat and potatoes. Somedays it would be a roast. Somedays a roasting pan full of meat pie with a biscuit dough crust. There were always sides of pickles and chow - all homemade of course. We are talking about my family here. And always, always there were biscuits.

Even at my house biscuits where a staple. I have memories of my mother sitting down a plate of biscuits as a side to a meal and my stepfather and brother R counting how many biscuits the other was eating (mostly my stepfather - my brother was too busy eating them most of the time but he'd always be told how many he ate, lol).

At my grandparents place though, biscuits went to a whole new place for me. You see, my grandfather always wanted to spoil me. We were the type of family to spoil people with money (cause we didn't have any) or with material goods (no money to buy them). But we did have food. Oh yes we did.

My grandfather used to spoil me silly with strawberry shortcake. Last week when I was at the St. Lawrence Farmer's Market there were fresh Ontario strawberries all over the place. I picked up a box and knew what I was going to do. I was going to make strawberry shortcake - monkey style.

So I baked biscuits. I sliced strawberries. I bought whipping cream.




And then...then I assembled the yumminess. I split the biscuit and laid the pieces into a bowl. Then I piled the biscuit with strawberries. Then I pour the cream onto it. That's right. I did not whip the whipping cream.

What you end up with pure yumminess.



I've had my first strawberry shortcake. It's officially summer.