You know those picturesque summer days when you saunter through the markets, langorously sampling this cheese, that berry, smiling to people you know, hearing the live band play from across a field, grinning at the ice cream cone-wielding children running innocently through other people's legs?
Yea? Well, this was not that day. I didn't langorously sample anything, or meander around casually exploring. I ended up at the market with a "get in, get out" shopper attitude. It wasn't my preference, but "situations" occurred.
First of all, I'd been so caught up in my relaxing morning of writing, here, that I was only partly in the mood to go in the first place. What with all that rain coming and going...sometimes it's just more appealing to stay in when it's raining. But then I thought of the possibilty that people would be offering radishes - my current addiction I'll likely be telling you more about later on - and I thought I might as well get out and see.
Since I'd waited so late to go, I opted for the larger market available to me. If vendors decided to close up shop a little early and head on home, this way I'd still have more options. So off to the Piedmont Triad Farmer's Market I went.
On my way there, an inexplicable puff of dust came bursting through my air conditioner vents and straight into my face as I drove. Until then, it had been windows down, enjoying the sunshine, up the highway to said farmer's market. And suddenly I was covered in this light film of dust. This has never happened before, but when you drive a car as many years as I have this one, inexplicable things are bound to happen eventually.
I mean, I wanted to bring you the stories and share the experiences. Sadly by the time I arrived, in spite of one farmer's assurance that a guy down that way had had them earlier, nobody seemed to be offering radishes for sale.
Even though I had to stop and sit down 5 or 6 times and remove my contact lens and rinse it out, and part of the time I was in actual physical discomfort from the red eye that kept asking me to please, oh please take everything out and just close it for a good hour, I had a lovely time. Even with the humidity.
Because I didn't get there first thing in the morning for the freshest of the fresh, the "cream of the crop" so to speak, I got the other end of the deal - the guy who was selling this asparagus changed his prices for that end of the day "please don't make me take this stuff home where it might go to waste" bonus. $4 for one bunch, or 2 for $6. Sold. Not that I can see 'em, or anything, but hey, I have an idea! You pick out the two bunches you would want if you were doing the shopping today!
So I shot a few quick pictures with my iPhone, and in the end the best part of the day was eating what I bought. First, a late lunch of salad when I returned home. Prepared with crisp lettuce and glorious Finally The Way God Intended tomatoes purchased at the market, and radishes, olives, avocado and sunflower seeds I already had on hand, I tossed in some Annie's Natural Goddess Dressing and ate the whole huge thing.
Then later, one entire bunch of that asparagus, sauteed in a pan with two cloves of garlic, about a tablespoon of sesame seeds and a splash of olive and sesame oils with a little grind of sea salt and pepper, became my dinner. The whole thing, nothing else. Just a big bowl of crisp green goodness. Yum.
Then the blueberries I found at the market, in my Cheerios with unsweetened Silk this morning, making me wish I'd also indulged in the Buy Two Get A Deal pricing. But I remind myself, there's always next week. Or later this week, even, if I like!
I'm pretty sure everything really does taste better when you've met some of the people who grew your food for you.