I never liked strawberries much until I my ex-fiancée took me for an afternoon picking wild ones in the beech forest above a fjord in southern Norway (near Porsgrunn). Only the size of garden peas, but a taste explosion in the mouth: intense flavour and intoxicating sweetness. Absolutely wonderful.

The giant store-bought things are pale and uninteresting by comparison. I can't eat them. They are like the ghosts of fruit.

My friend's wild strawberries in his garden in South Moravia are nearly as good. Similarly tiny, similarly intense.

When I lived in North Wales decades ago we had wild strawberries, they were about two or three times the volume of a chickpea in size (IIRC), and in two years I only ever found one that was ripe all the way around (they usually ripen on one side, or had a large patch of white unripeness even when the rest was red). I don't even remember that one tasting particularly stunning either.