There
is simply no excuse for it.
As
I said there really isn’t an excuse for it….well except for all the traveling
and then the nasty icky cold from hell that sapped all my energy and made me
incapable of naught but staring blankly at the computer and then going to bed
for the last two weeks or so.
And despite the fact that my ankle was complaining quite loudly that it was in fact not wishing to be walked on… I stuffed myself into my ankle brace and headed back to my favorite Saturday morning haunt.
It’s
funny how easy it is to forget how good summer produce can be. The markets have gotten better about carrying
good seasonal produce with some modicum of flavor (except for strawberries and
don’t even get me started there). Costco
especially seems to be able to dig up the most incredible produce which you
then have to buy in exorbitant quantities.
So
with all that it is easy to forget how much better fresh locally grown produce
really is.
It
is startling in its simplicity.
Fresh
produce that goes direct from the grower to your table.
With
my first taste of succulent white peaches my cold dampened senses seem to come
alive once again. It was as if someone
has peeled back a thick fog to reveal a verdant valley below.
It
does not matter how good a grocery story peach is.
It
simply cannot compare to one picked just a day or so ago and just now reaching
its peak of perfection.
One
of my favorite stands, incidentally the one that introduced me to the porn star
of the grapefruit family – the oro blanco – also has the most amazing white
nectarines. Even rock hard they are
fully perfumed and honey sweet. Perfectly ripe they burst with perfumy sweet juice; making them impossible
to eat without a raincoat. Pure white
with a red heart their ripe flesh melts in your mouth filling it with the luscious
flavor of peach. Divine.
I
could go on but that would do a heavy injustice to the rest of the produce.
Alas
the corn has peaked in my absence and this batch was simply not nearly as good
as it was a few weeks ago. It has lost a
great deal of its sugar and now is mediocre.
The
tomatoes however more than make up for it. So big it they each take two of my hands to hold they come with the most
tantalizing names. Brandywine
These
tomatoes have nothing in common with the grocery store kind. Nothing but name. In fact, if I didn’t know better I would
swear they were not even of the same planet.
Paling
in comparison but still delectable none the less; my favorite stand has begun carrying
their demonically good grapes and ravishing figs.
Not
too sweet the figs are a perfect foil for my treasured Rogue Creamery smoked
blue cheese. I had eaten half the
basket, cutting each tender fig in half and sinking a small chunk of cheese
deep into the maroon flesh before I even realized what I had been doing.
Even
the ferret demanded and eagerly devoured her share of fig.
Needless
to say, breakfast lunch and dinner for most of the weekend was entirely fresh
fruits and vegetables with a side of some tawdry enhancement that could not
hold a candle to my summer treasures.
I
cannot think of a better way to celebrate summer.
And
to my illicit lover, the Farmers Market:
I
have missed you my darling.
I promised I shan’t stray so far again.
Glad to hear you've put the cold down. Amazing how really low the "simple" or "common" cold can bring the human body. I don't consider a cold simple and am grateful I don't have one that commonly.
Love your produce. Ah, yes those heirloom tomatoes are so wonderful. The real deal - the other things they call tomatoes in the grocery store are real imitations.
Posted by: Tanna | Tuesday, August 29, 2006 at 05:16 AM
Tanna,
Yeah I was suprised at how quickly and for how long the cold sapped my energy. I think it was that and the fact that travel is sometimes taxing in general. And it being summer, I totally forgot my airborne which seems to help.
The tomatoes were so good! Like little slices of heaven!
Posted by: Kitarra | Friday, September 01, 2006 at 10:35 AM