A fool's errand

A soft, perfumed celebration of British strawberries and a pudding that deserves more love

I’m standing at the kitchen sink, carefully scooping the hulls out of strawberries with a teaspoon. I never chop the green bits off – I scold my kids for doing that – because you lose way too much of the fruit that way. It’s a bit fiddly and my fingers are stained red, but I don’t mind because the perfume is gorgeous – a cross between tomato leaves (try rubbing them between your fingers if you get the chance and take a sniff) and boiled sweets. Hardly a chore.

Strawberries are on supermarket shelves all year round, mostly grown under plastic, coaxed into early ripeness in polytunnels and picked while they’re firm enough to survive the lorry journey to a warehouse. But when the proper ones start to appear (many are still grown under cover, yes, but with the benefit of real spring sunshine and cooler nights) you can taste the difference. They have sweetness and flavour and fragrance. And this year’s crop, which is already starting to be available, is expected to be a blockbuster. So, they’re perfect for today’s recipe.