My first cooked cherry was in a cherry clafouti made by my friend’s grandmother, Odile. She showed me how to make this super simple custard with whole unpitted cherries. I loved it. Each year when the beautiful and brief cherry season is upon us, I think of Odile. She was from a tradition of French farmers. She was totally at ease outside plucking greens from the ground for quick lunch salad. At the time I had no idea where she was getting the greens from. There were no formal garden beds, just weedy green stuff serving as a lawn. When I asked she gave be a blank look assuming we were miscomunicating, as neither of us spoke each others language. It turned out that what seemed to obvious to her, was a mystery to me. The “lawn” was the salad.

This lady could whip up a dinner from an empty fridge. A completely new way of cooking for me at that time.

All this is to say, that Odile has been an inspiration for me in learning food traditions and cooking from fresh whole ingredients. Which brings me to the cherries, sour cherries. Three years ago I made a cherry pie with Bing cherries and was disappointed with the color, texture, and bland flavor of the cooked Bings. After doing a little research to figure out where I went wrong, I learned sour cherries are far superior to cook with but are not as desirable because they are not as popular raw, they don’t handle the long transport common to big production crops, and they go bad really fast. Even then, I heard that you could get them here but the season of availability is less than a month so you have to be ON IT. I vowed not to attempt another cherry pie until I had my hands of fresh sour cherries. It only two two years but it was sooo worth it.

My near daily calls to Berkeley Bowl proved successful. I ran out there and gathered up loads of sour cherries. I wanted to buy them all, probably like 50 lbs of cherries. It was like gold fever. My eyes were riveted on the sparkles reflecting off their taut skins. I was imaging all the riches I would have with them, pies, varieties of preserves, liquors, custards…sigh.

I forced myself to break the spell by scooping up two, no three, no four 2 lb containers of cherries. What will I do with eight pounds of cherries you might ask.

Easy. I canned some, froze some (to test frozen vs. canned) and with remaining fresh berries I made an AMAZING cherry pie (well worth the two year wait) and shared it with friends over a glass of jerez oloroso.

It is my opinion that happiness comes in fleeting moments when we are able to receive it. Its like a butterfly landing on you, rare and lovely and not to be shooed or pursued, just experienced. Life may not be perfect but that pie shared with friends and that last drop of liquid Spain sure was.