Turquoise, cloudless skies. Intense, sweltering heat. The lingering smoky aroma of a million barbecues. Simultaneous euphoric screams across the UK as Andy Murray is crowned Wimbledon Champion.
This weekend may have been one big ‘pinch-me’ moment, but it was a staunch reminder of how bloody FANTASTIC British Summer can be. We may not be blessed with a Wimbledon CHAMPION every year (well done, Murray!), but amongst the endless days of gloomy downpours and overcast skies, there are British Summer mainstays that we should celebrate. Canalside picnics, countryside saunters, newborn chicks. Beneath a canopy of searing sunshine, many of the makings of a brilliant Summer can be found right here on our little island.
The same can most certainly be said about British produce. It’s no secret that Britain is a sanctuary for fine seasonal produce, and there’s nothing that epitomises the British Summer quite so much as the English strawberry. On this most perfect of British Summer weekends, I headed to my local PYO field to stock up on a bounty of red berry plunder. Located in the same field where I’d discovered freshly picked asparagus to-die-for just weeks before, the adjacent field had now become a honeypot for local strawberry-lovers. Dozens of figures huddled over uniform green rows, scouring the foliage for the plumpest and reddest berries. The sweet scent of strawberries flooded our senses, blazing sun rays beat down on us, and the sky was that hue of blue usually only spied on postcards. It was perfect.