Me and My Berry Bowl
Does anybody out there have a berry bowl, or know what one is?
I had never even seen or heard of them until a few months ago. Over Memorial Day weekend, I reunited with my parents and close family in Vermont. It was my cousin Pete’s graduation from Middlebury (my alma mater) and former President Clinton was the speaker—all worth a cross-country trip. As my father ceaselessly reminded me, it had been 12 years since my graduation, however, much to my relief, not much had changed. In fact, it felt like I’d never left.
During college I took a pottery class at Frog Hollow—a crafts store and gallery in town—so after the graduation ceremony, we headed there to shop. Out of pure curiosity, I got a berry bowl (thanks Mom). To me, there’s no fruit tastier than a strawberry in season. And thanks to my berry bowl, all I have to do is put the berries in the bowl, run water over them, let them drain and serve—no extra sugar necessary.
Berry season and my new bowl are all the motivation I need to do the farmer’s market circuit. Since my Vermont trip, I’ve become a berry-stand regular at the Crocker Galleria market on Thursdays and the Ferry Building on Saturdays. This weekend, I’m headed to Half Moon Bay for an Inside the Kitchen class, and I’m hoping to stop at Swanton Berry Farm to either pick my own or simply buy some.
Just in case you want a bowl of your own, Simon Pearce on Fillmore carries a more refined, less folksy version.