10

Wonderful, Wonderful Wisconsin: Say “Strawberry” One More Time

A beautiful Sunday merited some exploration, so today I drove to Oregon…Wisconsin, that is, to go strawberry-picking!

That’s So Jacob Presents:

Wonderful, Wonderful Wisconsin

Episode 9: Say “Strawberry” One More Time (Carrandale Fruit Farm, Oregon, WI)

Strawberry season is over almost as soon as it starts here in Wisconsin; it’s only about six weeks, and we’re on the back end of it. After seeing some delicious Facebook pictures from friends who went last week, I decided to see it for myself.

It’s a pretty straight shot to get to the farm itself; just keep going down Fish Hatchery Road until Madison turns into Fitchburg, and Fitchburg turns into Oregon, and then follow the signs to this tucked-away little farm. We parked and checked in, and they gave us a basket, and told us that we pay by the pound as we exit, $1.80 per pound. So, we walked out to the fields and were assigned Row 8, and given a flag to put at the end of the row when we were done. We only had about 40 minutes until they closed (they’re open from 7 AM to noon), but we had the basket half-full with strawberries after 20 minutes bending over in the sun. The strawberries were tiny and bright red, and tasted like candies. After getting weighed, I handed over ten dollars and we went home.

And that’s how I spent the rest of the afternoon searching for recipes with fresh strawberries online, and ended up making sangria.

Advertisements
1

The Rising of the Mimouna

Today, I went over to the Gellers to celebrate the end of Passover by eating carbs.

I mean, I did the same last night at Short Stack, against my better judgment, with a pile of chocolate chip pancakes, but this morning had carbs mixed with Moroccan outfits and dancing to ululating music.

Mimouna is a traditional end-of-Passover gathering with music, dancing, and pastries. Ora made crepe-like things called mufletas, which are traditionally eaten with butter and honey, along with waffles, pancakes, and milkshakes. There were only a few people there but it was just fun to be around people and eat delicious foods. I only attended my first mimouna in 2011 in Houston, where it was a much bigger deal, with trays of desserts, a DJ, and hookah, and at that point I wondered where the hell this holiday was my whole life. I’m not of Mizrachi descent, sometimes it’s nice to pretend to be.I mean, I am Jewish after all, and this is just a different type of Judaism.

And any Judaism that involves eating mufletas is fine by me.