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Strawberry Vanilla Shortcakes -- The Jam That Named Itself Early May

May. The strawberries are here, the local ones from the farm stand, the ones that are slightly warm from the sun and deeply fragrant in a way the grocery store ones are not, and I bought two quarts on Saturday and made strawberry jam and strawberry shortcake and put sliced berries on top of my morning yogurt every day this week and am feeling entirely seasonal and correct about all of it.

Tyler and I had dinner at his house on Wednesday this week and we talked for three hours after dinner about the kind of life we want to build. Not abstractly, specifically: what does the house look like when children are in it someday, what does Sunday dinner mean to us as something we build together rather than something we attend, what does each other's daily life look like in ten years, in twenty. He said: I want Sunday dinner to be what you grew up wanting it to be. I said: it already is. He said: I want to keep that. I said: so do I. He said: good. He said it the way he always says good, complete and decided, and I believed it the way I always believe him, which is fully.

I brought the strawberry jam to Gloria's on Sunday in a jar with a ribbon and she smelled it when I opened it and said: early May jam. She said it like a name. I said: yes. She said: it is the best jam of the year. I said: I know. We ate it on biscuits I made and the morning was right.

The shortcakes I brought to Gloria’s on Sunday were made from the same two quarts I’d been living out of all week — the warm, fragrant ones from the farm stand that taste like the actual idea of a strawberry. After a week of jam and yogurt and long conversations about futures worth building, I wanted a recipe that felt as settled and right as that Wednesday dinner did, something that lets the berries be exactly what they already are. These strawberry vanilla shortcakes are that: unhurried, honest, and entirely correct for early May.

Strawberry Vanilla Shortcakes

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

  • 2 lbs fresh strawberries, hulled and sliced
  • 1/4 cup granulated sugar, divided
  • 1 tsp pure vanilla extract, divided
  • 2 cups all-purpose flour
  • 1 tbsp baking powder
  • 1/2 tsp salt
  • 1/3 cup cold unsalted butter, cubed
  • 2/3 cup whole milk
  • 1 large egg
  • 1 tbsp coarse sugar, for topping
  • 1 1/2 cups heavy whipping cream
  • 2 tbsp powdered sugar

Instructions

  1. Macerate the berries. Toss sliced strawberries with 2 tbsp granulated sugar and 1/2 tsp vanilla. Let sit at room temperature for at least 15 minutes, stirring once or twice, until juicy.
  2. Preheat and prep. Heat oven to 425°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
  3. Make the dough. Whisk together flour, baking powder, salt, and remaining 2 tbsp granulated sugar. Cut in cold butter with a pastry cutter or two forks until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs.
  4. Add the wet ingredients. Whisk together milk and egg, then stir into the flour mixture just until a shaggy dough comes together — 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 using a 2 1/2-inch biscuit cutter. Place on prepared baking sheet, sprinkle tops with coarse sugar, and bake 13—15 minutes until golden.
  6. Whip the cream. Beat heavy cream with powdered sugar and remaining 1/2 tsp vanilla until soft peaks form.
  7. Assemble. Split warm shortcakes in half. Spoon macerated strawberries and their juices over the bottom halves, top with a generous dollop of whipped cream, and set the tops back on. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 380 | Protein: 6g | Fat: 21g | Carbs: 44g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 290mg

Savannah Clarke
About the cook who shared this
Savannah Clarke
Week 422 of Savannah’s 30-year story · Prattville, Alabama
Savannah is twenty-seven, engaged, and a daycare worker in Prattville, Alabama, who grew up in foster care and never had a kitchen to call her own until she was nineteen. She taught herself to cook from YouTube videos and church cookbooks, and now she makes fried chicken that would make your grandmother jealous. She writes for the girls who grew up like her — without a family recipe box, without a mama in the kitchen, without anyone to show them how. She's showing them now.

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