One time, when I was, like, three, I ate a buttload of strawberries and broke out into hives.
Fortunately for me and my love of all things red and berried, it’s never happened again. I can enjoy strawberries just like almost everyone else, as long as my intake doesn’t come too close to my own body weight. I imagine that’s basically what happened back in ’84, knowing me.
Before now, when I was a restaurant slave, I spent a lot of time prepping cases of strawberries for salads and desserts, and it was all I could do not to eat the best of the lot.
I could write love poems about strawberries.
During the early months of my pregnancy, when the weather was still warm, I found myself craving a different type of fruit. Rather than wanting the luscious, jewel-toned berry, I desired a more tropical and meaty sort. First it was peaches, though that was short lived. Then it was pineapples. For a while I was buying them whole and ordering them in Thai food. I wouldn’t say that I became obsessed with the pineapple, but it’s definitely something I enjoy more often than I used to.
So imagine my delight upon learning of the freakish, yet magical, pineberry. This thing looks like an albino strawberry, and apparently tastes like a pineapple. It’s a hybrid, but is not a GMO(!!!). They aren’t widely available in the U.S., as far as I know, though I think you can order them in certain seasons.
For more, you can read up on the pineberry here. This site is dedicated to the strawberry. Did you know there are purple ones?!? Three year old me would have rioted.