In our stretch of the Huon Valley, the appearance of the tayberry sign outside the Cane's Orchard signals that summer berries have arrived. This blackberry-raspberry cross is a happy amalgam of the best qualities of both berries. They are a decent size, soft, fragrant and flavoursome – all things that make commercial production problematic.

Despite my best intentions of eating just a couple of berries to remind me how delicious they are, my first punnet of the season barely lasts the journey down the Cane's driveway.

In Tasmania, we are fortunate to have access to a range of berries not readily available in most of the country. Ideal growing conditions, a variety of established farmers' markets, and a quirky affection for farmgate sales mean that berries too delicate for large-scale production still manage to find their way into local kitchens.

We moved to Tasmania from Brisbane, where strawberries are a late-winter fruit. Around the time of the Royal Queensland Show, fondly known as The Ekka, the local strawberry season is just about in full swing. In the same way that strawberries and cream are synonymous with Wimbledon, strawberry sundae is an Ekka staple. At one time, someone would have scooped out the strawberry and vanilla ice cream, dolloped the cream on top, and finished it with a fresh strawberry. Now the pre-formed half-strawberry, half-vanilla ice cream cylinder is perfectly portioned to sit snuggly inside the squat cone – and tastes of not much at all.

I spent my early childhood in England, where summer strawberries are revered. On arriving in Australia, my mother decided that the strawberries grown here were a poor substitute for English ones and has never changed her mind. And it's true, the firm-fleshed berries, tasting of industrial agriculture and cold storage, are a poor substitute for juicy, sun-ripened fruit.

When we moved to Tasmania, the growing seasons aligned with my childhood and strawberries and all the other berries once again became summer fruit. In my mind, it's where they belong. With their delicate, red or purple-hued flesh, berries are a gentle fruit that belong in a gentle summer. And they taste so much better.

When berries are at their peak, it seems almost blasphemous to do anything except eat them as is. They are, however, such a versatile ingredient that when they are abundant, using them in everything and anything just makes sense.

Berry and bay yogurt ice blocks

There's nothing quite like an ice block on a warm summer's day. It's somehow carefree and playful. The advantage to making your own is that you have an almost limitless number of options. I've chosen yoghurt for these ice blocks because I like the tanginess. It can be tempting to try and reduce the amount of sugar, but this impacts the texture. You'll end up with icy shards rather than something smooth and creamy. The addition of bay leaves and vanilla adds a herbal note that somehow deepens the berry flavour. Use fresh bay leaves if you can – the difference between fresh and dried is significant.

I've purposely given a quantity for more berries than needed for this recipe. They are so good with all sorts of things – swirled through yoghurt, over the top of ice cream or rice pudding, or as an oozy cake filling. If you don't like the idea of leftovers, you can halve the berry component in the recipe. You can use a single variety of berries, but I like the complexity of a mix.

Makes 6 ice blocks

400g mixed berries

200g caster sugar, divided

2 bay leaves

1/2 vanilla pod, split lengthways, seeds scraped

350g Greek yoghurt

Put the berries, 110g of the sugar, bay leaves and vanilla into a medium saucepan. Stir occasionally over a medium heat until the sugar has dissolved, then simmer until the berries have softened and the juices have reduced a little and thickened. It will take about 15-20 minutes to create the slightly jammy texture you are after. Remove from the heat and cool completely. Remove the bay leaves and vanilla pod.

Mix the yoghurt with the remaining sugar. Alternately spoon the berry mixture and yoghurt into ice cream moulds. Freeze for several hours or overnight. Dip each mould into warm water to release the ice block.

Note: Depending on the size of your ice block moulds and how evenly you distribute the berries and yoghurt, you may have a little yoghurt left over. I just put this in a plastic container with some of the berries, freeze and eat with a spoon.

Julia Matusik is the complete foodie. She has had market stalls, organised farmer’s markets, run a cafe, done postgraduate studies in gastronomy, conducted cooking classes and judged preserves and cakes at the Brisbane Show. She cooks most days and, perhaps most tellingly, she misses cooking when she goes on holiday. Julia and her husband Michael recently moved from Brisbane to Geeveston, where they now live in an 1890s farm cottage, surrounded by a seasonal rhythm far more pronounced than the life they knew in the sub-tropics. More of Julia Matusik’s writing and recipes can be found at www.juliaspantry.com.au.