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Strawberries — And How Sometimes Things Open Up When You’re Not Looking

This week I had a conversation with my supervisor that I have been thinking about ever since. Her name is Miss Charlene and she has run the daycare for fifteen years. She called me into her office on Tuesday afternoon, which I will admit made me nervous, and she said she wanted to talk about my trajectory. That was her word: trajectory. She said she had noticed how I was with the difficult kids, the ones who were going through transitions or struggling to attach, and she wanted to know if I had ever thought about a degree in early childhood education.

I have not thought about it, is the honest answer. I have thought about paying rent and cooking dinner and getting through the week. She said there are community college options and she knows someone in the financial aid office. She said she would write me a letter. I said thank you and went back to the toddler room and spent the rest of the afternoon thinking about it while Jaylen tried to put a crayon in his ear.

On Sunday I told Gloria about it. We were making pound cake, her recipe, and I was measuring the flour while she softened the butter. She listened the whole way through without interrupting, which is her way, and when I finished she said: do you want to do it. Not could you or should you. Do you want to. I said I think I might. She said then you do it.

The pound cake was perfect. Dense and buttery and golden on the outside, with that crack down the center that means it rose right. We ate slices warm with strawberries. James had three slices. I drove home thinking about trajectories and strawberries and how sometimes things open up when you are not looking for them.

The strawberries we had that Sunday with Gloria’s pound cake were nothing fancy — just ripe and cold from the fridge, sliced and set out in a bowl — but they tasted like something worth remembering. I’ve been thinking about that afternoon all week, about trajectories and butter and people who say the right thing at the right time, and I wanted to hold onto that feeling a little longer. This strawberries and cream smoothie is my weekday version of that moment: quick to make, sweet without being heavy, and the kind of thing that tastes like a good day starting right.

Strawberries and Cream Smoothie

Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 5 minutes | Servings: 2

Ingredients

  • 2 cups fresh or frozen strawberries, hulled
  • 1 cup whole milk or milk of your choice
  • 1/2 cup heavy cream or full-fat coconut cream
  • 1/2 cup plain Greek yogurt
  • 2 tablespoons honey or pure maple syrup, adjusted to taste
  • 1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
  • 1/2 cup ice (omit if using frozen strawberries)

Instructions

  1. Prep your strawberries. If using fresh strawberries, rinse, hull, and slice them. For a colder, thicker smoothie, freeze sliced strawberries on a baking sheet for at least 30 minutes before blending.
  2. Combine ingredients. Add the strawberries, milk, heavy cream, Greek yogurt, honey, and vanilla extract to a blender. Add ice if using fresh berries.
  3. Blend until smooth. Blend on high for 45–60 seconds until completely smooth and creamy. Pause and scrape down the sides if needed, then blend again briefly.
  4. Taste and adjust. Taste the smoothie and add more honey if your strawberries are on the tart side, or a splash more milk if it’s thicker than you like.
  5. Serve immediately. Pour into two tall glasses. Garnish with a fresh strawberry on the rim or a small drizzle of honey if you’re feeling it.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 290 | Protein: 8g | Fat: 16g | Carbs: 30g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 75mg

Savannah Clarke
About the cook who shared this
Savannah Clarke
Week 63 of Savannah’s 30-year story · Prattville, Alabama
Savannah is twenty-seven, engaged, and a daycare worker in Prattville, Alabama, who grew up in foster care and never had a kitchen to call her own until she was nineteen. She taught herself to cook from YouTube videos and church cookbooks, and now she makes fried chicken that would make your grandmother jealous. She writes for the girls who grew up like her — without a family recipe box, without a mama in the kitchen, without anyone to show them how. She's showing them now.

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