When I was a little girl, I LOVED strawberries. I loved the way they tasted, I love the way they looked, and I loved that inevitable trickle of juice that meandered down my chin when I took a bite, only to be cleared away with a swipe of my tongue. Strawberries were sun and summer and long afternoons in my girlfriend's backyard, where a strawberry tier overflowed with these scarlet gems!
One problem... I was very allergic to strawberries. Fortunately, my throat didn't shut down, but within minutes of eating a fresh strawberry, my face swelled up, becoming red and blotchy, and I turned into the strawberry version of Willy Wonka's "blueberried" Violet Beauregarde.
Now, life is short, and sometimes a swollen face is worth a mouthful of succulent strawberries... my mother disagreed. She was fearful, that one of these days, it would turn into a life threatening allergic reaction, and no berry, no matter how tasty, was worth that. Funny thing, I could eat frozen strawberries, the kind that come out all...Read more