Nothing can transport you back in time as vividly, as swiftly, as a food aroma. First, strawberries and then raspberries, bursting with red, ripe juiciness, always take me back to growing up on a farm. As a kid, with most classmates squealing with delight on the last day of school, I would be dreading the long, hot summer days of farm work. This included berry picking, in what I only remember as field size proportions. They weren’t just little berry patches… or were they? Things always seemed bigger when you were a kid.