In our hyper-tech gadgety world of all things convenient, instant, high-speed, it’s crucial to occasionally remind ourselves to take slow-paced, unplugged moments to truly take in what’s around us, what’s tangible, and reap the savory things in life – literally.

In life’s metaphorical fast lane, my family and I recently took a pit-stop detour, a sweet moment of pause.

We took a U-turn straight for a U-pick – a family farm in which we could harvest to our heart’s content at a modest cost.

That’s the thing about pick-your-own farms. Farm goods sun-ripened and ready for the picking are light on pesticides; even lighter on your checkbook.

In this case, my family was looking to satisfy our collective sweet tooth one recent Sunday, and so our answer to this was to head for finger-lickin’ strawberry pickin’.

We turned into a long, dirt drive, instantly transported to a simpler, rustic time.

Horses trotted quietly past as we unloaded our children from their carseats; tractors dotted the fields in the distance.

Our game plan didn’t pan out to be exactly a fair one – we tucked our 2-year-old in our Red Flyer wagon as vibrantly crimson as the strawberry fields forever before us, and readied our cardboard trays of quarts for filling beside him.

Our 4-year-old and we got to work, filling quart after quart of plump strawberries stacked on the tray easily within reach of our younger tot’s grasp.

We may have driven out of town to get here, but our youngest went right to town consuming berry after berry from his wagon seat, brilliant red ribbons of streaking down his chin and arms.

As John Denver might have agreed, life on the farm was kinda laid back, indeed.

Our little berry-boy was a happy toddler, and we dubbed him Darryl Strawberry for the moment. But our older kiddo wasn’t so amused as he watched baby brother devour his pickings.

And Darryl Strawberry continued to up his berry demand, hankering for more berries as though they were being sacrificially offered up. He was consuming them as quickly as we picked them. Our eldest had had enough of this, and refused to pick more.

My husband and I wrapped up the pickings by haphazardly rounding out our loot with 19 pounds of melt-in-your-mouth goodness.

Nineteen pounds, plus whatever weight our youngest had gained in that 45-minute span, my husband was quick to point out.

In the end, we’d picked a successful haul.

My pint-sized 4-year-old helped lug our quarts in our wagon down the lane to cash out before we left, red strawberry evidence streaking his cheeks.

Once home, we washed, hulled, and froze our fruity harvest in single sheet layers before tossing them into freezer bags to create a frozen winter stockpile.

Perhaps the greatest satisfaction of that back-aching work is that we’d have summer-fresh flavor all winter long.

Perhaps taking your children on a merry-making, berry-picking rendezvous is more than just sticky fingers and sunshine.

By visiting a pick-your-own farm, be it an apple orchard or blueberry fields, you support your local economy; you support sustainability.

And sustainability means your future generations will get their own opportunity to be a sticky mess all in the name of nutrient-dense berries. So go get your strawberry shortcake on. From chocolate dipped to daiquiris to straight-up berries, endless are the ways to prepare these magnificent fruits, and it’s a great feeling to get the family involved.

This story’s moral is to go rural – visit local farms and reap what they’ve already sown.

Benefit from healthy foods at cut-rate prices while making fantastic memories with your sticky-fingered tots.

It’s good for you.

— Michelle Cote is the art director of the Journal Tribune. She enjoys cooking, baking, and living room dance-offs with her husband, two boys and a dog. She can be contacted at mcote@journaltribune.com.