The cherries were ready, all at once. Our tree, quietly filled with fruit while I was focused elsewhere. It felt like the season tapped me on the shoulder and whispered: “Now. Today.” And the cherry harvest has begun.
So I did what anyone caught between a garden and a kitchen might do — I brought out the basket and got to work. Climbing. Picking. Stretching too far and getting sticky from squished fruit. All of it was a little messy and very grounding.
First: Cherry Sponge Cake
The first thing I made was a simple cherry sponge cake — or bublanina, as we call it in Czech and Slovak kitchens. The name comes from the way the cherries rise and fall in the soft batter like little bubbles. You don’t need anything fancy: just a quick batter and whatever fruit is on hand. The cherries give the cake a sweet-sour balance and stain the pale crumb beautifully.
Then: Preserving the Cherry Harvest
The rest of the cherries went into jars — I finally tried out my new preserving pot. No complicated recipe, just sugar syrup and whole cherries, pits and all. Some people remove them, but I don’t — we don’t use the preserves for baking. We eat them as a side to rotisserie chicken or straight from the jar as a snack.
It’s comforting to have something that feels like it belongs in the cellar of an old house, quietly waiting for winter — or in our case, in the garage of the apartment building we rent.
The cherries keep their shape better this way, and there’s something beautiful about seeing the fruit suspended in syrup, slightly translucent.
Berries in Waiting
While the cherries took center stage, I also gathered a handful of strawberries from our garden — the last, I think, for this year. The black currants are almost too rich to eat raw, so I picked what I could and tucked them into the freezer.
Now I have a little bag of frozen berries: last year’s forest strawberries and blueberries from a summer trip, and this year’s new offerings. I don’t have time to make jam this week (and honestly, I like to do it when the weather cools just a bit), but once I gather everything — the currants still need to ripen — I’ll make one slow jam. A blend of years and days.
Slowness Isn’t Always Quiet
What strikes me every summer is how slowness doesn’t mean stillness. These days are full. There’s picking and pitting and washing and baking. And yet — when I let go of rushing — it feels slow in the best way. I’m not checking a thousand things off a list. I’m just moving through the work of the season, one task at a time.
Sometimes, that’s the only kind of rest we get — rest that comes from being exactly where your hands are.
I’d Love to Hear From You
Did you also have a cherry (or any other) harvest this year? Are you preserving anything this summer? Do you make jam, freeze herbs, or save fruit like small treasures? Let me know in the comments or send me a note. I always enjoy hearing how others mark the season.
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