Strawberry Banana Chocolate Crumble

My house backs up to a park. Well, that’s what I call it; the neighbors who live there call it their back yard.

Saturdays, the park gets mowed and trimmed by a man or two and a boy or two. From their friendly waves and hallos across the fence, it’s no stretch to surmise they may have been born elsewhere.

Last year, during the height of the Congressional immigration storm, one of Mother Nature’s blew through town, littering the park with sticks and branches and limbs.

(Ever picked up two acres of sticks? It’s tedious, back-bending work. As girls, my sister and I dreaded this spring assignment. We worked, slowly. We complained, loudly.)

Next day, a boy of 11 or so collected sticks all morning, never resting, never complaining, hauling armfuls to a growing pile near the street. In his ears were the telltale white buds of an iPOD, one of the coveted digital music players. I don’t know how immigration reform will work out.

What I do know is that this kid (like strawberry pickers in California and apple pickers in Oregon) dreams of life’s equivalent of an iPOD, expects to earn it and that it is wholly American – some how, some way – to afford his dream.

Local strawberries arrive soon! Here are three simple ways to enjoy their ruby sweetness.