Bearing Gifts We Traverse Afar

Three little figures trudged through the snow, hunched protectively over their precious gifts. Each thought, I wonder how they'll like it? Will it be enough? Will they laugh?

But onward they walked, bent against the snow, peering anxiously at the bejeweled treasures they carried, concerned that no harm befall them.

Wisemen from the East? Gold, frankincense, and myrhh?

Nope.

It was the Peitasch children, sent with admonition for due care by their mother, on their annual trek to deliver the School Teacher Christmas Gift.

Which in our house, meant only one thing:

Strawberries.

For the uninitiated, "strawberries" (you kind of need air quotes. They're about as far from the real thing as you can get) are a quasi-candy. We made them every single year when I was growing up, and they - like pretty much everything else that was fancy and came out of our kitchen - were crafted solely for the purpose of giving away.

We must have been legendary at Southwood School. Probably every teacher received a paper plate with a dozen "strawberries" nestled carefully in individual cups beneath a protective saran wrap cover at some point in his or her career there.

This year, the legend continues. Well, sort of. I decided that *I* was going to make "strawberries." I've made them since becoming a GrownUp, but never with my kids.

Ohhhhh, did I talked them up! I told them we were going to have So! Much! Fun! Making! Strawberries! I assured them they would each have a special job in the process, and how the littlest child always got to do the rolling and how the next biggest child did the stems and eventually worked up to that magical job - the forming.

They were beyond excited. They came in the door after school yelling, "LET'S MAKE STRAWBERRIES!!"

And so we did. First, preparations. There is only one CD that can be played while making strawberries: Boney M Christmas.

Then, with the reggae Mary's Boy Child grooving in the background, you can soak toothpicks in green food colouring (this works best the day before):

Then you amass the ingredients (Note: dessicated coconut works best, but I couldn't find it. None of my coworkers knew what it was - is it a Canadaland thing? Rocky, my favourite American baker - what say you?):

Then you mix up the perfect ratios of each:

Next comes rolling...a delicate job, as you have to take *just* the right amount of "dough" and apply the correct amount of pressure to mold yet not mush:

Next, more jello - used both in the dough and as a shiny, glittery outer crust:

The last thing is to spear a quarter of a candied green cherry with the toothpicks from above and insert this a la leaf. I have no pictures of this part. By the time I'd gotten the kids to pose for these first ones, The Boy was pretty much done. The Girl kept going a bit, while I gave her helpful tips until she looked at me and said kindly, "you know, Mom, I think I'm going to let you do this so that you can do it exactly the way you want it." So I did:

And so the memory lives on. If you're lucky enough to catch me on my trip Home for Christmas next week, you just might get one of these tasty little treats. If not, well, you might not be missing much - The Husband says they are an acquired taste and it took him ten whole years to get used to them.