Imported strawberries and cherries were on sale the other day at an expensive supermarket in the mall. Having been on a diet of durian and mangoes for the past few weeks (indeed, very blasé to them now, so sad) my gut presently craved something on the tangy side of the fruit spectrum. Possessing a weak constitution, I gave into the demands of the stomach, and thus splurged on the discounted fruits with parsimonious reluctance; for even at half-price I would not consider such purchases a reasonable dietary investment.
With that in mind, they could not therefore be eaten straight out of the box, instead must be prepared and laid out in a manner befitting their station in the fruit hierarchy. So thinking, I organized them superfluously, with the meticulous care of a florist arranging a bouquet of exotic flowers from Madagascar and Peru; or the attentions a pastry chef in Paris might accord to his tower of macarons. Not to sound like a food presentation critic or anything like that, but methinks I made a plate worthy of being served on the banquet table at a party hosted by Madame de Pompadour in the Palace of Versailles. Just saying.
Grand display (deserving of high praise) aside, the strawberries were humongous, very much so; for usually I am able to pop them into my mouth as if eating popcorn. However with these extra large ones, it took like 2-3 bites per strawberry; an inconvenience to say the least. On top of that, they were firm and sour; more suited for making jam. And thus, I gave them the “meh” shoulder.
The cherries on the other hand, proved to be a better return on investment than the haughty strawberries. Crunchy and appropriately sweet, with a hint of tartness. They were as delicious as supermarket cherries will ever get. I approve.