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Strawberry Shortcake with Coconut Whipped Cream (Vegan) — The Shore, the Season, and What We Carry Home

Memorial Day weekend. Eduardo and I went to the shore again — same cottage in Madison, second year in a row, becoming a tradition. Sofía had encouraged us. She said, "Ma, last year was good for you. Go again." We went.

Friday-Sunday at the shore. The water was sixty-five degrees. I waded. Eduardo swam. We ate lobster rolls from a place called Lenny's on the way home Saturday. Eduardo said, "Carmen, the lobster roll is correct." I said, "Eduardo, not Caribbean. But correct." He laughed. We sat on the porch of the cottage with wine and read books. He was reading a thriller. I was reading a Puerto Rican novel Sofía had given me. We did not talk much. The marriage. The marriage as the comfortable silence with the same person for thirty-eight years.

Sunday we drove home. The roads were busy with returning travelers. We were home by 4 PM. I called Mami. She was tired. Carmen the aide said she had slept most of the weekend. I drove over with leftover sandwiches. Mami did not eat them. She slept. I sat for an hour and went home.

Tuesday food bank: arroz con habichuelas. Routine. The team.

Wednesday La Cocina cohort 4 final class. Same graduation feast. Wes did the pernil. The pernil was excellent. I told him so. He cooked the pernil with the confidence of someone who has been studying. The class was complete. The fourth cohort. Forty-eight Cocina students in total now plus the twenty-six at Asylum Hill's first cohort plus those that were coming. The kingdom expanding.

Thursday Mami had a hard morning. She was confused for three hours. She did not know me. She was crying off and on without specific reason. Carmen the aide held her. I came over at noon. I sat with her. I sang the Bayamón children's song. She quieted. She slept. She woke at 4 PM lucid. She said, "Carmen, I had a hard morning." I said, "Mami, I know." She said, "Carmen, the morning is going to come more often. I can feel the brain is not — not what it was last month." I said, "Mami." She said, "Carmen, I am not afraid. I am ready. I am tired. I want to see Mami and Papi." I said, "Mami." She said, "Carmen, do not cry. I have lived a long time. I have had a good life. I have you and Eduardo and the children and the grandchildren. The body has had enough." I held her hand. We sat. She slept. Wepa.

The lobster roll at Lenny’s was correct — Eduardo’s word, and he was right — but what I kept thinking about on the drive home was something sweeter, something that tasted like the season itself, like the particular quality of May light on the porch. And then the week happened: Mami’s hard Thursday, her lucid afternoon, her quiet courage. She told me she was not afraid, and somehow that opened something in me that wanted to feed people, gently. This strawberry shortcake — made with coconut whipped cream, vegan the way the La Cocina students have taught me to appreciate — is the kind of dessert you bring to a table where people need to feel that summer arrived and the living is still good.

Strawberry Shortcake with Coconut Whipped Cream (Vegan)

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 18 min | Total Time: 38 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

  • For the shortcakes:
  • 2 cups all-purpose flour
  • 1 tablespoon baking powder
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt
  • 3 tablespoons granulated sugar
  • 1/3 cup coconut oil, solid (or vegan butter, cold)
  • 3/4 cup unsweetened oat milk (or other plant milk)
  • 1 teaspoon apple cider vinegar
  • 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
  • For the strawberries:
  • 2 pounds fresh strawberries, hulled and sliced
  • 3 tablespoons granulated sugar
  • 1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
  • For the coconut whipped cream:
  • 2 cans (13.5 oz each) full-fat coconut milk, refrigerated overnight
  • 2 tablespoons powdered sugar
  • 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Instructions

  1. Macerate the strawberries. Combine sliced strawberries, sugar, and lemon juice in a bowl. Toss gently and set aside at room temperature for at least 20 minutes, until juicy.
  2. Preheat and prep. Heat oven to 425°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
  3. Make the shortcake dough. In a large bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder, salt, and sugar. Cut in the cold coconut oil using a pastry cutter or two forks until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs.
  4. Add the wet ingredients. Stir the apple cider vinegar and vanilla into the oat milk; let sit 1 minute to curdle slightly. Pour into the flour mixture and stir until just combined — do not overmix.
  5. Shape and bake. Turn dough onto a lightly floured surface and pat to about 3/4-inch thickness. Cut into 8 rounds with a 2.5-inch biscuit cutter. Place on the prepared baking sheet and bake 15–18 minutes, until golden on top.
  6. Make the coconut whipped cream. Open the chilled coconut milk cans without shaking. Scoop only the thick cream from the top into a chilled mixing bowl; discard or save the liquid for another use. Beat with a hand mixer on high speed 2–3 minutes until fluffy. Add powdered sugar and vanilla; beat 1 minute more. Refrigerate until ready to use.
  7. Assemble. Split shortcakes in half horizontally. Spoon a generous amount of macerated strawberries and their juices over the bottom half. Top with a dollop of coconut whipped cream, place the top half of the shortcake on, and add another spoonful of cream and strawberries. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 385 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 21g | Carbs: 46g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 210mg

Carmen Delgado-Ortiz
About the cook who shared this
Carmen Delgado-Ortiz
Week 520 of Carmen’s 30-year story · Hartford, Connecticut
Carmen is a sixty-year-old retired hospital cafeteria manager, a grandmother of eight, and a Puerto Rican woman who survived Hurricane María in 2017 and rebuilt her life in Hartford, Connecticut, with nothing but her mother's sofrito recipe and the kind of determination that only comes from watching everything you own get washed away. She cooks arroz con pollo, pernil, and pasteles for every holiday, and her kitchen is always open because in Carmen's world, nobody eats alone.

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