I have always associated summer in Ireland with the magical appearance of those Wexford strawberry sellers on the side of the road. In my mind, those little tables full of red delights seem to fall out of the hedgerows and trees ready made.
However they get there, they are truly a beautiful sight. I cannot think of a more memorable childhood experience, eating sweet strawberries straight from the punnet as we travelled up North to visit my grandfather’s farm. This memory creeps its way back into me, as with most food memories, at the strangest of times. Food memories are building blocks for our own personal food culture and they surface to remind us of the absolute pleasure of Irish food.
Just as strawberries appear the elderflower sheds its aromatic flowers. Strawberry and elderflowers work together on many levels: in a fizzy cordial or as part of an assemblage of smashed meringues and cream. One thing is certain, you need to cook them. Don’t go picking them from the trees thinking you’re going to find your inner natural self. They’ll make you a little sick.
They require only a little cooking. There are a few ways to do this effectively: in sugar syrup brought to the boil (equal parts sugar and water with a handful of elderflowers); in a sweet pickle (vinegar, sugar and water) brought to the boil and poured over elderflowers, and finally dried in the oven at a low temperature.
Last summer, I made a beautiful elderflower salt (dried elderflowers mixed with Achill Island sea salt) and seasoned chicken with it before roasting on the barbecue. The floral aroma cut beautifully though my pasture-reared chicken. You can also make elderflower sugar (same process with dried elderflowers). This is great for sprinkling over strawberries with dollops of cream.
Finally, don’t let June pass without preserving some elderflowers in vinegar. They’re great with freshly shucked oysters in September.
