Healthier Strawberry Shortcake

May. My favorite month, if I am being honest, because May in Nebraska is the month where the promise of spring becomes the reality of warmth, and the fields are green and the days are long and the evening light lasts until eight-thirty and the whole world feels like it is exhaling after holding its breath since November.

The garden is already showing green shoots. Josie checks it every morning before school, crouching in her uniform with her backpack on, examining the soil for signs of life with the intensity of a scientist and the hope of a child. The lettuce was first to sprout, tiny green leaves pushing through the dirt like small miracles. Josie screamed when she saw them. She ran inside and said the garden is working, as if the garden was a machine she had been worried about, and now it was running, and everything was going to be fine.

I have been thinking about Brenda-turns-forty, which is happening in August, and I am not sure what I feel about it. Forty is a number that sounds like a verdict. Thirty-nine felt like a way station. Forty feels like a destination, and I am not sure I like where it leads. My body is already telling me things I do not want to hear: the knees, the back, the blood pressure the doctor is starting to frown about. Nineteen years behind the wheel is a long time, and the wheel takes a toll.

But May is not the month for existential worry. May is the month for strawberries. I bought three quarts at the farmers market in Grand Island and made strawberry shortcake: homemade biscuits, sliced berries macerated with sugar, fresh whipped cream. The biscuits are the key. You want them barely sweet, flaky, with a golden top. Cut the butter into the flour with your hands, not a food processor, because your hands know things a machine does not. Bake hot and fast, 425, ten minutes. Split them while they are warm, pile on the berries and the cream, and eat them standing at the counter if you cannot wait. I could not wait. I am thirty-nine and the strawberries are here and the garden is growing and my daughter said the garden is working and she is right. Everything is working. At least in May.

That batch I made standing at the counter—the one I couldn’t wait to sit down for—is the reason I keep coming back to this recipe every May without fail. This version of strawberry shortcake is a little lighter than the one my mother made, which feels right for where I am right now: trying to take better care of myself without giving up the things that make a season worth living through. The biscuits are still the star, the berries are still piled high, and the cream is still very much present—just made a little smarter, which is maybe what turning forty is supposed to be about anyway.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 12 minutes | Total Time: 32 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

For the biscuits:
2 cups whole wheat pastry flour (or all-purpose flour)
1 tablespoon baking powder
2 tablespoons sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
4 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
3/4 cup low-fat buttermilk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
For the berries:
2 pounds fresh strawberries, hulled and sliced
2 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon lemon juice
For the whipped cream:
1 cup heavy whipping cream (or coconut cream for a lighter option)
1 tablespoon powdered sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

Instructions

Macerate the berries. Combine sliced strawberries, sugar, and lemon juice in a bowl. Stir gently and let sit at room temperature for at least 20 minutes, until the berries release their juices.
Preheat the oven. Heat oven to 425°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
Make the biscuit dough. Whisk together flour, baking powder, sugar, and salt in a large bowl. Add the cold butter pieces and work them into the flour with your fingertips until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs with some pea-sized pieces remaining. Do not overwork.
Add the wet ingredients. Stir in the buttermilk and vanilla extract until the dough just comes together. It will be slightly shaggy—that’s what you want.
Shape and cut. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface and pat to about 3/4-inch thickness. Cut into rounds with a 2 1/2-inch biscuit cutter or glass, pressing straight down without twisting. Place on the prepared baking sheet.
Bake. Bake for 10–12 minutes until the tops are golden and the biscuits have risen. Transfer to a wire rack and let cool slightly.
Whip the cream. Using a hand mixer or stand mixer, beat the cream, powdered sugar, and vanilla on medium-high until soft peaks form. Do not overbeat.
Assemble. Split each warm biscuit in half. Spoon a generous amount of macerated strawberries and their juices over the bottom half, top with a dollop of whipped cream, then place the biscuit top over. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Healthier Strawberry Shortcake — Because May Deserves Something Sweet and Real