Strawberry cheese triangle

We're picking strawberries again this weekend. It's like eating strawberries is the taste, the sight. As soon as we entered the Strawberry Shack, a red strawberry sprouted like a little lantern on green vines, and came with a light and sweet face, it was a little bit of ablaze. When I was a kid, I used to pick strawberries, and my mom used to plant them in front of the door. My sister and I went out to the strawberry field every day, and that one was just red, and they picked it up. Although they began to have mature fruit every day, they did not see a big red-hot picture. By the end of May, it was the season of strawberries, at which point it was possible to see large pieces of strawberries matured and my sister and I opened up their belly. But Strawberry's fragrance world, which was always brief, disappeared as soon as July passed, and saw only a pile of abandoned grass, with strawberries gone. It's like when a strong music suddenly stops, people are still in that beautiful melody. Now, with the technology of growing strawberries, shed strawberries are usually on the market in December until the next year, and then open-air strawberries will pick up the baton and stretch our strawberry season. I took too many strawberries over the weekend, I tried to consume them, made strawberry yogurt cakes, made a big bottle of strawberry wine, and made this romantic, soft and soft bread, with strawberry fragrance and cheese pie, which is so delicious。