The secret of really sweet strawberries
Forget the bland offerings piled high in superstores and try this summer joy as it’s meant to taste
SUPERMARKET strawberries are all smoke and mirrors. The plump red fruit look irresistible inside their plastic punnets, while the rich, sweet aroma released when you peel back the cellophane cover makes you want to tuck in with gusto. However, take a bite and you’ll be left with a profound sense of disappointment.
Instead of being blown away by a perfectly ripe, juicy berry with a slightly firm texture and a taste that’s one of the joys of summer, it’s like chewing on a wad of cotton wool that’s been impregnated with a hint of strawberry flavouring. As far as I’m concerned, the overall eating experience is all a bit ‘meh’.
Fortunately, there’s an easy way to ensure strawberries are a taste sensation… by growing your own. Those with plenty of room can set plants in beds or borders or even start a dedicated strawberry patch. Anyone with a smaller plot can raise them in plant pots, growing bags, tower pots or hanging baskets. Snapping up pot-grown plants is obviously far tougher than usual because of the country being in lockdown, but many garden centres and nurseries offer a click- andcollect service for local customers. Another option is to order rooted runners or plug plants from mail-order specialists.
Wild strawberries have been eaten for thousands of years, with plants mainly native to countries in the northern hemisphere. Among them is Fragaria vesca, or woodland strawberry, a species with highly aromatic, tiny little fruit that can be found growing in woods, grass and scrubland across this country.
Cultivated plants with more vigour, larger fruit and heavier yields first appeared in the 18th Century when French botanists created Fragaria x ananassa, the parent of most modern varieties. It was the result of crossing Fragaria virginiana, a North American species, with Fragaria chilioensis from Chile.
Today, close to 100 varieties are available in Britain, split into two groups depending on when they bear fruit. Summer-fruiting types tend to produce a single, heavy flush of berries at some point between late May and August. Everbearers produce a steady supply of fruit from early summer into the autumn.
Strawberry plants prefer a sunny spot with well-drained, fertile soil that’s been improved with garden compost, leaf mould or well-rotted manure. Set plants in holes that are roughly twice the diameter of the container and the same depth – space 18in apart with 3ft between rows if creating a strawberry patch.
Runners need slightly different treatment. First, dig holes that are large enough to accommodate the roots. Pop in the runner and backfill with soil, making sure the base of the crown is level with the surface. Scatter general fertiliser granules around plants to get them off to a flying start.
Over the years I’ve had great success growing strawberries in containers. Individual plants are perfect in 8in pots of multi-purpose compost, while growing bags can accommodate six plants. The way fruit naturally cascades makes plants suitable for hanging planters and pots – four on top of a 12in basket would be ideal.
Water plants regularly, especially during dry, sunny spells, and feed every two weeks with a highpotash fertiliser once flowers appear – avoid wetting fruits, to prevent grey mould. Strawberries are largely troublefree but you may need to take measures to scare off hungry birds.
Once the last of the fruit has been picked, cut back tatty foliage to leave a 2in cluster of undamaged foliage at the centre of the plant and give them a good feed with a general fertiliser. In late winter, you can prune the foliage again, removing leaves that have been damaged by the weather.
Summer-fruiting varieties should provide you with heavy crops for about four years before they start to lose vigour.
As they produce fruit over a longer period, everbearer strawberries tend to run out of steam far sooner. Expect to replace plants every couple of years or so.
The berries in shops may look lovely – but they’re like eating cotton wool