All my focus seems to have been on what is missing from this season, and I have to remind myself that summer is not just about sun and heat. It would not be summer without the new Danish potatoes, fine skinned and buttery, the soil still moist.
Begging for a slice of rye, mayo and roasted onions, or watercress, or...
The classic Danish potato peeling fork. I mostly eat my potatoes with the skin still on, but nothing beats the sentimental value, and besides I am a sucker for beautiful tools.
And nothing announces summer like the arrival of Danish peas. They should be squeaky to the touch like fresh tulips, not too soft or too hard. I like to weigh each of them in my hand, to make sure they are not faking it (all shell and no meat), a trick I picked up last summer from a fellow pea picker. One of my earliest memories of my grandfather is him teaching me how to split them like a pro. It's all in the thumb.
But the true highlight is the Danish strawberries, according to my vegetable dealer, the best in the world. So good that when visiting family in the homeland, they bring suitcases full of Danish strawberry marmalade. Is it odd how that makes me feel proud? This is the last week of Danish strawberries, and they are in such demand that you (they) have to be there at 2:30 in the AM to get them at the market. 2:30 AM... I shall never complain about the strawberry prices again.
Because this is the grand finale of the season, I went all out and got the whole cream to go with it. It is a ritual: rinsing, drip drying, nipping the top, cutting in halves, the squeeze of lemon, the light sprinkle of sugar, and then the wait. Letting it sit for a while is the hardest thing, and when you can't stand it any longer you add the final touch: the whole cream. Mixing with the bleeding berries and the sweetened lemon, turning creamy. That's Danish summer.
See you next year.