Nigel Slater’s kitchen diary: strawberries’ moment in the spotlight

Photographs by Jonathan Lovekin

There have been strawberries here for 25 years. The first – a gift from a generous reader, plants whose flowers twinkled in the shady part of the garden, then went on to maraud their way over the entire space – had to be ripped out like errant dandelions. Then came my strawberry bed, planted on the sunny side of the garden, full of Alice, Florence and Chelsea Pensioner varieties. I did even better with Cambridge Late Pine, held by many to be a berry of particularly fine flavour.

The plants were moved to pots 15 years ago, when the space was repurposed, and now I have lost track of which is Alice and which is Florence. (I think the Chelsea Pensioner passed away.) The plants I have now are from runners of the originals. The small fruits seem richer, deeper and sweeter than those that impress with their size. Diminutive fruits look prettier in a dish and are usually scarlet right through, rather than suffer from icy-white hearts with the texture of wool. The few wild ones there are to this day, dotted among the wild anemones and cushions of London Pride, are seedy, almost gritty, and have the deepest flavour of all.

I cannot grow enough to last the entire summer. Those strawberries that aren’t eaten straight from the punnet will end their days wrapped in soft white blankets of cream, yoghurt or kefir. I like them with ricotta or, as I ate them this week, with a sweet, milky ice-cream of ricotta and lemon zest.

There has been very little hot food on the table this week. Chicken with a marinade of soft, grilled red peppers and harissa was a dazzling exception. We cooled its heat with thick yoghurt and shredded mint. Salads abounded: chicken and cucumber with a dressing of mayonnaise spiked with Pernod, parsley and tarragon leaves; another of couscous, pickled lemons and much parsley, which was also jazzed up with pomegranate seeds and flaked almonds. Then, a rearrangement of last month’s broad-bean salad recipe using green beans instead of asparagus. We have the rest of the year to turn the oven on.

Strawberries with lemon ricotta ice-cream

Serves 4. Ready in 2-4 hours.

Ricotta ice-cream, milky and softly spoken, is best with strawberries that have been marinated with something sharp, like orange juice or passion fruit. The tartness of the dressing lifts the flavour of even the shyest berries.

For the ricotta ice-cream:
caster sugar 125g
water 125ml
lemon juice 2 tbsp
ricotta 500g

For the strawberries:
passion fruits 4
black pepper a little
orange juice of a small one
strawberries 400g, ripe

Make the ice-cream: put the sugar and water into a saucepan and place over the heat until the sugar has dissolved. This may well be before the water has boiled. Remove from the heat and allow to cool, then chill thoroughly.

Whisk in the lemon juice and ricotta, then pour into an ice-cream machine and churn until almost frozen. Transfer to a freezer box and store in the deep freeze until needed.

To serve: cut the passion fruits in half and put the seeds and juice into a small bowl. Grind in a little black pepper. Stir in the orange juice. Remove the hulls from the berries, slice the fruits thickly, then stir them into the passion fruit and orange. Cover the bowl and set aside in a cool place (not the fridge) for half an hour or so, then eat with the ricotta and lemon ice-cream.

Serves 6. Ready in 2-4 hours.

The syrup needs to be completely cool before you start to churn the sorbet. I make the syrup the day before and chill in the fridge or cool it quickly over ice cubes. The best flavour will come from using berries that are scarlet right through, rather than those that are white inside.

caster sugar 150g
water 120ml
strawberries 350g, ripe
lemon juice of half

Put the sugar and water in a saucepan and bring to the boil. Remove from the heat as soon as the sugar has dissolved and leave to cool.

Hull the berries, then whiz them in a food processor until smooth. Add the lemon juice, then stir into the chilled syrup. Pour the mixture into an ice-cream churn and mix until almost frozen or, if you are proceeding by hand, tip into a chilled freezer box and place in the deep freeze for about 2 hours until partially frozen, stir the edges into the softer middle and return to the freezer for a further hour. Repeat the stirring of the edges into the middle until the sorbet is fully frozen.

• A fruity red wine, such as Beaujolais, makes a pleasing marinade for sliced berries. Let them sit together in the fridge for about an hour before eating.

• To enhance a lacklustre berry, slice the fruits in half, then marinate for an hour with a sprinkling of caster sugar and the juice of an orange.