A RICH man whose teeth, constitution and heart were all stainless steel might reasonably look back to life in the mid 18th century with longing, but not if he liked strawberries,’ writes Jane Grigson in Good Things. Because the plump and buxom fruits we so adore, the very quintessence of English summer, are a relatively modern invention—an inspired fusion of the Americas, North and South.
We had, of course, our own European species, the wild or Alpine strawberry, small and intensely flavoured. Elizabeth David thought them ‘infinitely more delicious than any cultivated version’ and my father agrees. He used to plant them in the gaps between the paving stones (he still does) and they were a genuine childhood treat, gathered as we padded, barefoot, across the sun-warmed rock, eyes peeled for those tiny crimson curves. You had to move fast, as we were not alone in our adoration. These strawberries were a feast for all manner of birds and beasts, moving from inedible white to luscious fruition in what seemed like a matter of moments.
Back in the Middle Ages, these delicate beauties were closely associated with the Virgin Mary (as well as Frigg, the northern goddess of fertility), a symbol, apparently, of her loving mediation in Heaven, remarkable for being in flower and fruit at the same time. That’s because they are actually a ‘false’ or accessory fruit, with those exterior seeds the plant’s true fruit.
Denne historien er fra July 14, 2021-utgaven av Country Life UK.
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Denne historien er fra July 14, 2021-utgaven av Country Life UK.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
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Kitchen garden cook - Apples
'Sweet and crisp, apples are the epitome of autumn flavour'
The original Mr Rochester
Three classic houses in North Yorkshire have come to the market; the owner of one inspired Charlotte Brontë to write Jane Eyre
Get it write
Desks, once akin to instruments of torture for scribes, have become cherished repositories of memories and secrets. Matthew Dennison charts their evolution
'Sloes hath ben my food'
A possible paint for the Picts and a definite culprit in tea fraud, the cheek-suckingly sour sloe's spiritual home is indisputably in gin, says John Wright
Souvenirs of greatness
FOR many years, some large boxes have been stored and forgotten in the dark recesses of the garage. Unpacked last week, the contents turned out to be pots: some, perhaps, nearing a century old—dense terracotta, of interesting provenance.
Plants for plants' sake
The garden at Hergest Croft, Herefordshire The home of Edward Banks The Banks family is synonymous with an extraordinary collection of trees and shrubs, many of which are presents from distinguished friends, garnered over two centuries. Be prepared to be amazed, says Charles Quest-Ritson
Capturing the castle
Seventy years after Christian Dior’s last fashion show in Scotland, the brand returned under creative director Maria Grazia Chiuri for a celebratory event honouring local craftsmanship, the beauty of the land and the Auld Alliance, explains Kim Parker
Nature's own cathedral
Our tallest native tree 'most lovely of all', the stately beech creates a shaded environment that few plants can survive. John Lewis-Stempel ventures into the enchanted woods
All that money could buy
A new book explores the lost riches of London's grand houses. Its author, Steven Brindle, looks at the residences of plutocrats built by the nouveaux riches of the late-Victorian and Edwardian ages
In with the old
Diamonds are meant to sparkle in candlelight, but many now gather dust in jewellery boxes. To wear them today, we may need to reimagine them, as Hetty Lintell discovers with her grandmother's jewellery
