For 362 days of the year, Ponchatoula is an archetypical Louisiana small town; the diners and cafes there serve their regulars, students attend class at the high school, and life is sedate and regular. On April 11-13 of 2008, Ponchatoula hosted hundreds of thousands of attendees at her annual Strawberry Festival, the largest free festival in the state. Ponchatoula, billing itself as the Strawberry Capital of the world, gave itself over to food, music, dancing, and parades, and revelers from throughout Louisiana and neighboring states.

The festival is notable for more than free admission, although that makes it a popular attraction for everyone from families to university students in need of a break from pre-exam study. This was the 37th celebration at Ponchatoula, and rumors of tasty treats drew me to the 300 block of North Sixth Street, the entrance to the festival grounds.

Parking is scarce in Ponchatoula during the festival. If you missed this year's festival but plan to attend the 2009 festival, come early and wear comfortable shoes, expecting to walk and to pay $10.00 to $15.00 for all-day parking in a resident’s yard or a business’ lot. The best spaces go first and cost more. Also expect to find all manner of noshes and nibbles on your way into the festival—many local eateries operate booths along the routes into the festival, but outside the festival grounds; non-profit organizations operate all booths on the festival grounds.

Between donation to a good cause and my hike from my car, I suffered no eater’s remorse as I tucked into my first selection, a sausage po-boy from the Hammond Knights, whose booth is a favorite amongst festival-goers. I was impressed; the sausage was cooked to perfection, with the ideal balance of crunchiness on the outside and moisture on the inside. A heap of sweet, grilled peppers and onions added relish to the plain sausage and crusty, chewy French bread. Before long, I was staring into an empty plate.

A nearby booth peddling strawberry dumplings to benefit the Special Olympics drew my attention next. Like many people, I associate “dumpling” with something similar to a potsticker—I anticipated some kind of strawberry-flavored confection covered in boiled, fried, or steamed dough. I got something more like a cobbler: rich, sweet, and deeply strawberry-flavored. A cup of tart lemonade from the same booth helped keep the sweetness from being cloying.

The next item on my agenda was to find a strawberry daiquiri and enjoy some music at the festival’s stages, but hit a speed bump—despite the ready availability of cold beer, only non-alcoholic strawberry daiquiris were available on the festival grounds! I settled for the non-alcoholic version rather than trudge several crowded blocks back to the booth operated by Paul’s Cafe; all I really wanted was something cold and fruity to drink while I sat in the sun. But be warned, if you attend next year's festival and want a “real” daiquiri.

One thing remained to finish my tour of the festival. I had heard that someone worked out how to deep fry strawberries and I felt bound to investigate . . . purely for the readers’ benefit. The booths featuring this treat operate near the actual festival grounds, but not on them. I snagged one from the Boy Scouts of America for a dollar; it was everything I expected, with a trace of cinnamon in the batter surrounding a warm, drippy core of fruit. Bliss! Tired, slightly sunburned, but happy, I strolled back to my car and drove home.