Sour cherry season
When does summer really begin? Traditionally, most people recognize Memorial Day weekend as the start of the season. For others (particularly parents and college students), it’s marked by the end of the school year. Astronomers swear by the solstice as its official commencement. But for me, sour cherries are the truest sign that summer has arrived.
Partly, it’s because this type of cherry (also known as tart or Montmorency cherry) is nearly impossible to find any other time of the year. The growing season is short, about ten days in our area. The ripe fruit is so soft that it can’t be shipped, and has a shelf life of approximately one day. You need to live near an orchard that grows them to pick your own, or find them at the local farmer’s market. Fortunately, the mature tree bears a ton of cherries (okay, not literally a ton), because the birds find them irresistible. I planted a Montmorency tree in our backyard several years ago but, thanks to my avian competitors (especially the darn catbirds!), I have yet to harvest a single cherry.
And partly, the fruit itself is a visceral reminder of summers past and present. The ripe red cherries glow on the tree like rubies, each one its own miniature sun. You pick the fruit beneath the hot hazy sky of the east coast summer, the sweat trickling down the back of your neck as you reach for the upper branches. The bounty of the harvest requires hours and hours of pitting and canning, activities that I associate with the sweltering, un-air-conditioned kitchen of my childhood.
But boy, is the reward worth the effort! I can see a future filled with sour cherry ice cream, hot buttermilk biscuits spread with sour cherry preserves, succulent duck breast glazed with sour cherry sauce, brandied cherries for my cocktails. And my absolute favorite dessert, sour cherry pie, which I learned to make at my grandmother’s elbow, as she prepared our weekly Sunday dinner. The taste of that pie is the essence of summer.
Okay, breaktime is over. Time to pit more cherries…
h.