Strawberries

The number of farmers markets in Los Angeles County has more than doubled over the last decade, from 53 to 129, and many of the venues are new, small and operated by neophytes. Such is the case with the Los Feliz farmers market, which was started five months ago by Helen Lee, a filmmaker who grew up in the area and got into the world of markets when she operated a crepe stand. She has started three markets since April; this one, sponsored by a nonprofit organization called Eco-Op, began near the well-known Dresden restaurant, but a month ago moved two blocks north to its current, more visible location in a post office parking lot. In this modest space Lee has managed to fit 25 stands, of which seven are certified produce vendors and 18 offer prepared foods and miscellaneous merchandise.

As dawn breaks, Bill Ito is often out the door to inspect his strawberries. That's what his father did. That's what his grandfather did too, after emigrating from Japan in 1918 to establish a family farming enterprise that would eventually become one of the biggest strawberry growers in Southern California. But whether the Ito family will farm strawberry fields forever is anyone's guess. Although farmers of Japanese descent virtually developed the state's $1.

Once a year, Kenneth and Dee Stone of South Pasadena make a trek to Oxnard in search of strawberries. This year's foray brought the couple to the California Strawberry Festival, which drew about 70,000 people over the weekend and ended Sunday amid a flurry of arts and crafts, contests, music and berry-flavored culinary delights. "We asked a lot of people when we first got here where we could get just regular strawberries," said Kenneth. "Nobody could tell us."

Strawberries don't wait for you to find them. They beckon. Their botanical name, Fragaria, means fragrance, and it's their sudden perfume in farmers markets, stall after stall, that signals the start of a new fruit season in Los Angeles. From April through June, they're at their sweetest, with that unique combination of firmness, seedy interest and intense rush of juice. One has to study the plant's caning habit in the ground to appreciate its standing as a member of the rose family.

Ever tried strawberry pizza? What about Southern fried chicken with strawberry sauce? It may sound a bit like berry overload, but it is, after all, strawberry season. That means the juicy, red fruit is easily found throughout California this time of year. But those who dare to try some of these exotic dishes can find them at this weekend's Strawberry Festival in--where else?--Oxnard, the state's strawberry capital.

A hepatitis A scare that was kicked off when possibly tainted strawberries made their way into Los Angeles public school lunches should soon be over, according to public health officials. No cases of infection by the highly contagious virus have been linked to consumption of fruit cups containing the berries, according to Dr. David Dassey, a Los Angeles County epidemiologist. The strawberries came from a shipment linked to three hepatitis outbreaks in Michigan.

Pickers bend under the midday sun in rows and rows of strawberry plants that ripple in the wind. The eldest picks the fruit with gnarled, leathery hands. He says he is 70 and has done this all his life, mostly in Mexico. Time and a smile crease his face, and he wears a red plaid shirt. This rural scene is in a city. To the north, the pickers can see Cerritos College, which leases the 17-acre field to the strawberry grower.

Doug Circle has been growing strawberries in Orange County for 20 years, but this year things will be different. "We're pretty darn excited about it," said Circle, part-owner of Kirk Produce in Anaheim and Laguna Farms in Irvine. "We expect the biggest crop ever." The industry is producing a new variety, called Camarosa, that is bigger, firmer and longer-lasting than other strawberry strains.

Strawberry farmers were scrambling Wednesday to assure retailers and consumers that fruit found in thousands of school lunch desserts tainted by the hepatitis A virus was harvested in Mexico, not in California fields. As state officials traced the source of the virus, strawberry farmers reacted quickly to protect their rapidly approaching peak season.

Ralphs Grocery Co. halted orders of Mexican strawberries Thursday in the first indication that the hepatitis A scare might cause at least some temporary disruptions in U.S.-Mexican food trading. The decision by Southern California's largest supermarket chain could feed Mexican fears that a hepatitis A scare could damage the country's $5-billion-a-year agricultural export industry. At the same time, though, officials continued to deny that the virus originated on Mexican strawberry farms.

The number of farmers markets in Los Angeles County has more than doubled over the last decade, from 53 to 129, and many of the venues are new, small and operated by neophytes. Such is the case with the Los Feliz farmers market, which was started five months ago by Helen Lee, a filmmaker who grew up in the area and got into the world of markets when she operated a crepe stand. She has started three markets since April; this one, sponsored by a nonprofit organization called Eco-Op, began near the well-known Dresden restaurant, but a month ago moved two blocks north to its current, more visible location in a post office parking lot. In this modest space Lee has managed to fit 25 stands, of which seven are certified produce vendors and 18 offer prepared foods and miscellaneous merchandise.

Re: ["Picky Eaters, Sneaky Parents," June 23], I found this article interesting and disturbing. Parents secretly putting things (even if it's broccoli) into their children's food without their knowing it? When they grow up, I wonder what they'll think of that? Seems a trust is broken here, and I'm not sure it won't affect food issues these children may have down the line. Delicious is key where food and children are concerned. If a parent wants to get a child to eat fruit, he or she can wash, chop and freeze fresh strawberries, then take a blender and pour in one cup of fat-free milk.

Romance packages at spectacular seaside resorts? Those are so 2007. This Valentine's Day, truly groovy couples will nibble chocolate-dipped strawberries, sip Champagne and gaze into each other's eyes not in a deluxe suite on the Gold Coast but in a shoe store. And not just any shoe store: Footcandy in Brentwood is the only place in town to find the big three --Jimmy Choo, Manolo Blahnik and Christian Louboutin--under one roof. What could be more romantic than that? For $350, the 11/2-year-old boutique is offering a "Romance Your 'Sole' Mate" package that gives lucky couples the run of the shop for an hour, a 15% discount on all the shoes they snatch up ($770 jeweled D'Orsay pumps by Choo--grab 'em!

Maybe the Beatles were right -- strawberry fields are forever. It turns out that instead of destroying California's crop, this month's freeze might have saved it. Farmers were harvesting an unprecedented number of strawberries until the freeze. The pending surplus could have sent prices for early-season fruit crashing. "We were probably headed for an economic disaster," said Bill Reiman, a major Oxnard grower and secretary-treasurer of the California Strawberry Commission.

As dawn breaks, Bill Ito is often out the door to inspect his strawberries. That's what his father did. That's what his grandfather did too, after emigrating from Japan in 1918 to establish a family farming enterprise that would eventually become one of the biggest strawberry growers in Southern California. But whether the Ito family will farm strawberry fields forever is anyone's guess. Although farmers of Japanese descent virtually developed the state's $1.

Thank YOU for the informative article on strawberries ["In Search of Perfection," by Russ Parsons, March 16]. I grew up on a vegetable farm in central Indiana where Mother raised the most delicious strawberries. Her "secret" was based on how I believe the berry got its name: She would place straw around the plants as a mulch. For 20 years, I owned Rosebrock's Vegetable Garden Center in Malibu, catering to home vegetable gardeners. When people asked why I had straw around my strawberries instead of plastic like the farmers in Ventura and Orange counties, I told them that those farmers were growing "plastic berries" and I would explain the foregoing.

Kirk Larson knows that somewhere among the more than 25,000 plants he inspects every week, the next great strawberry may be waiting to be discovered. A plant breeder for the University of California, he helps run a program that has produced some of the most delicious berries offered at local farmers markets -- Gaviotas, Seascapes and Chandlers. And it has also succeeded in extending the fruit's season from the couple of months nature traditionally allotted to nearly all year-round.

For 46 years in Garden Grove, there have been two Memorial Day weekend certainties: strawberry eating and parade watching. The Garden Grove Strawberry Festival, where these two things could be done, isn't going anywhere. But for the first time in its history, organizers are considering canceling the parade, which features floats, performances by local marching bands and grand marshals who have included Robert F. Kennedy, Mickey Mouse and Zsa Zsa Gabor.

Strawberries don't wait for you to find them. They beckon. Their botanical name, Fragaria, means fragrance, and it's their sudden perfume in farmers markets, stall after stall, that signals the start of a new fruit season in Los Angeles. From April through June, they're at their sweetest, with that unique combination of firmness, seedy interest and intense rush of juice. One has to study the plant's caning habit in the ground to appreciate its standing as a member of the rose family.

A small band of farm workers is picking a fight with Ventura County's high-profile strawberry industry, contending that the introduction of mechanized harvesting practices in the berry fields is hurting their backs and their pocketbooks. The workers are angry about widespread use this season of tractor-like machines that advance through the fields ahead of the harvesters, providing a mobile platform on which workers deliver boxes of berries as soon as they are picked.