A box of white-chocolate strawberries dusted in gold is more than a gift — it is a declaration that this moment, this person, is worth celebrating.
There is a particular kind of joy in receiving a gift that someone clearly laboured over. Not the flat joy of a gift card or the polite appreciation of a candle, but the bright, sharp joy of opening a box and understanding immediately that someone thought about you — specifically you — when they made it.
Koko's birthday strawberries begin with the ripest available berries, washed and dried with care, because imperfect fruit ruins everything that follows. Each one is hand-dipped in white chocolate, then spun slowly until the coating settles smooth and even. The gold luster dust comes last, applied with a wide brush in long upward strokes so the shimmer catches the light from every angle.
'A birthday only comes once a year. The strawberries should feel like it.' — Koko.
The syringe injectors — a small theatrical touch — hold champagne jelly or a flavored cordial. They are not strictly necessary. But birthday moments rarely require necessity. They require delight.
The gold 'Happy Birthday' topper is placed in the center of the box just before it closes. It will be the first thing the recipient sees when they lift the lid — a little gleaming declaration that today, everything is for them.
'A birthday only comes once a year,' Koko says. 'The strawberries should feel like it.'