Regardless of what is happening with the weather or my weekend travel schedule, I never feel that summer has truly arrived until the summer fruit graces the farmers markets with its presence. There is absolutely nothing better than those sweet, delicate and ephemeral berries and stone fruits fresh from the farm stand on a hot Saturday morning. Rhubarb, you ersatz fruit, begone (until next April at least)!
Strawberries always seem to come first. And then come the good strawberries, those whose perfume you can smell from a foot away. Then the rest of the berries, a few currants thrown in, peaches and then the heaven that is cherry season. I can't wait.
In the meantime, I'm settling (hardly) for a breakfast built around the tiny, sweet, peak of the season strawberries.
With a baguette from Balthazar spread with Ronnybrook's incomparable unsalted butter and Agrimontana preserves along with a fried egg, the start of the day just does not get much better than this.