Let me tell you about when I paid thirty dollars for six strawberries—no, this wasn’t part of a performance art piece on late-stage capitalism. I willingly clicked “Buy” on a pack of Japanese Tochiotome strawberries from Noble Fresh Cart, a company that, according to their PR department (and let’s assume several monks), delivers sushi-grade seafood and artisanal meat with the reverence of a religious ceremony.
Now, before you start picturing your local grocery store’s sad, squishy berries, let’s set the record straight: these are not those. These strawberries were each the size of a toddler’s fist, with a smooth, glossy sheen that made me feel like I was about to bite into a fruit-themed Fabergé egg. Sourced from the Ibaraki region of Japan, these Tochiotome berries are handpicked at peak ripeness. Yes, handpicked—someone with an actual human hand plucked each one and presumably whispered sweet nothings to it before lovingly placing it in a box.
They arrived chilled, coddled in a cushion-lined container that looked more like it should be storing jewelry than produce. I braced myself for disappointment (because, again, I spent $29.95 on six strawberries), but the first bite? Oh, it was sweet. It was so lovely that I questioned whether sugar injection was involved. The texture? Impossibly smooth. The flavor? Like your standard supermarket strawberry, I had been studying abroad in Kyoto and just came back cultured, poised, and fluent in three types of umami.
I offered one to a friend, who asked, “Is this worth five bucks a berry?” I told them yes, just like a glass of overpriced rosé is “worth it” when you’re sitting on a rooftop pretending you enjoy jazz. It’s not about the cost; it’s about the experience.
But let’s be real for a moment: these berries are ridiculous. Not in quality—oh no, they deliver on that. The ridiculousness lies in how wildly indulgent they are. They’re not for blending in smoothies or tossing into a fruit salad. These strawberries are for sitting down at the table, preferably under a spotlight, slicing ceremoniously with a dessert fork and murmuring something pretentious about terroir.
And if the red ones weren’t luxurious enough, Noble Fresh Cart also offers Awatuki White Strawberries—a rare pale-pink variety that looks like a strawberry in witness protection. Creamy in appearance, alarmingly delicate, and also suspiciously sweet, they’re the kind of fruit that practically comes with a nondisclosure agreement.
So should you buy these? If you enjoy strawberry-induced existential crises and can recite your Amex number by heart, sure. Noble Fresh Cart is serving up decadence, wrapped in foil and berry juice. Just don’t expect me to use them for jam. I’d sooner use truffle oil as windshield wiper fluid.
Would you splurge on gourmet fruit, or are you more of a “berries are berries” kind of person?