Farmers Market-ing (it’s a verb now) is possibly my favorite thing in the whole world. There are cute tiny dogs with their cute tiny (ancient) owners, there are rookie musicians nervously playing their sweet little songs, there is bright hot sunshine, there are entrepreneurial twelve year-olds selling beaded bracelets, and… there is food. Fresh pasta, sticky sugary streusel, colossal avocados, baskets of peaches, piles of limes, rows of cucumbers. And sun-burnt farmers standing behind it all, weighing cantaloupes and promising that the best of the best tomatoes will be ready next week.

Mr. Streusel

Ms. Ravioli

Last Saturday I scored an almost bouquet-like bunch of fat rosy radishes and a baby watermelon. This week it was a handful of serrano chilies, one of the giant weird shiny FL avocados, half a cantaloupe, a couple limes, a blueberry streusel bar, and fresh caramelized onion ricotta ravioli. If I wasn’t on enough of a foodie high, at the end of the market trail is Sur la Table. Also known as heaven shop, I spent a very solid thiry minutes walking in circles, my heart full of intense desire for all things kitchen. I actually had a list: jars and popsicle molds, but I immediately forgot about those mundane little items as I fondled sea creature cookie cutters, colorful metal colanders, old fashioned French presses, and neon-blue Le Creusets. But I eventually came back to reality and managed to restrain myself to one pretty little jar (pickled okra!) one pretty little bottle (vinaigrette!) and pink star-shaped popsicle molds (watermelon-lime-mango pops!)

Little bottles that I probably need.

Then I crossed the street to my other favorite place, Whole Foods, where I wish I lived. I would seriously pay a serious amount of money to have a little loft above Whole Foods, my windows looking out over the rows of tasty overpriced organics. In an attempt to curb spending, I got one of the halfsie carts and only allowed myself to fill the top portion. It was a very full top portion. I’ve just moved into an apartment-style dorm which means a KITCHEN. And not just a kitchen, but a kitchen stocked with a rice cooker, a crock pot, a George Foreman (named Georgina), and three really lovely girls who break the college norm and do not live on cereal and PB&J! So all this has got me all excited about cooking, and I have a thousand plans, all of which I was madly shopping for. Chicken salad, Masala-y stew, big salads, yummy spicy miso soup. Shopping complete, hunger growing, I lugged my very full bags (I have a re-usable Pikes Place bag and a Moscow Co-op bag, both of which I am very fond and proud of) back to the car and scurried on home. Where I boiled some sugar and vinegar and other crap, sliced up my market chilies, and made picked okra! Which I now have to wait three long days for. Then smashed up last weeks watermelon leftovers with lime juice and sugar and poured it into my cutesy new molds along with some juicy mango chunks. (There are local mangoes here!! Really good ones!! 75 cents at the market from this really nice scraggle toothed farmer guy!) Then I had an amazing sandwich: rye bread, dijon, turkey, salami, mozzarella, lots of sprouts, and pickled onions and radishes. Then I wrote about it.

I can’t wait for my okra!

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