There is something iconic and primal about cherries. Apart from their perfect shape and colour, the true beauty of cherries lies in their ability to get stoned while I get juiced. The voluptuous simplicity of their shape and colour is seductive. A colour so subtle and elusive that it outshines any cosmetic product with the temerity to take its name in vain, yet, a very rough and ready description will leave your listener in no doubt as to the fruit to which you are alluding. Round, red, the size of a nut, hanging in pairs from bright green stems. The pleasure in this fruit is so much more than the sum of its parts. Glossy piles of nearly black Bigarreau cherries caught my eye and my heart yesterday.
The pleasure in cherries lies in immediacy. A white china bowl sits in front of me whilst I wonder what I shall do with them. As I wonder, I eat and soon there are none. That is the best way to enjoy cherries – thoughtless indulgence leaving one covered in juice and the plate looking like a well used love nest.