My heart lives in San Francisco where the people I love best are (except my adorable Mot), a short drive from the stage where my dad and Marge put on the three-acts and where there is some gorgeous thing around every corner.

            Not to mention the food. [sigh] I start the 450-mile drive home from there every time wondering how long I’ll have to wait for the next bahn mi (Bun Mee on Fillmore) or dim sum (City View) or cannelle (La Boulangerie). Even grocery shopping is wonderful when there are Bruno’s and Cal-Mart and (be still my heart) the Ferry Building and its weekend farmers market.

            But here in SoCal we have Chino’s, an organic family farm that grows vegetables and fruit as good as anyone’s anywhere, which almost tips the scale to even. Their strawberries are legendary, and they grow three varieties: the tiny, soft fraises des bois that taste like flowers and whose perfume goes right to my head, Alpine (French) and then their mainstay, what they call California: big, sweet, juicy, perfect texture. The growing season is long, and our mouths are red for months.

            I stopped by last week to fill up my shopping bag and discovered they have decided to sell strawberry plants (the California variety). Though I am an intrepid gardener, I don’t grow food (why would I if I can drive to Chino’s?), but there were two of them in my garden by day’s end. They can’t possibly grow enough to satisfy our strawberry addiction, but they will provide the sweaty gardener wearing the knee pads and stained gloves with warm, red, perfect bites all summer.

            For the plants to grow larger and well, I had to pinch off any fruit or flowers before sticking them in the dirt. They were so pretty, I decided to snap a few pics to show you (the first four). The rest are of their ripe cousins that came home in my basket.

            Eat well and have a lovely Fourth of July holiday. Wave a sparkler around. Kiss someone you love with berry-stained lips.

You can read about the wonderful Chino family here:  http://www.saveur.com/article/Travels/Food-in-the-Shinto-Spirit.  The original parents who bought the farmland in 1957 came to San Diego from Arizona after spending four years with their children in a Japanese internment camp. Since the article was written in 2008, Hideo, only in his sixties, has died and the grandchildren who work behind the counter in the summer have grown taller.