Downtown Farmers' Market

Growing up on a farm, with a monster garden out our back door definitely spoiled me when it comes to fruits and vegetables. As Chris likes to tell everyone, (and I suppose I'll admit), I'm a "corn snob." I can't help it that no corn on the cob tastes as good as what comes from the field at my house. (My family plants so much sweet corn that it gets its own section of field behind the shop as opposed to being in the actual garden). We did have a miniscule garden in Washington that produced lots of tomatoes and peppers (neither of which I have ever been able to convince myself to like - not for a lack of trying though...) and some zucchini and green beans. But, over the past years, I've begun acquiring a (forced) taste for canned or frozen vegetables (although oddly, I've always preferred canned peas over fresh - I know it's weird...).

But now (until September).... I have access to an amazing Farmers' Market that is two and a half blocks from here every Tuesday and Thursday! It's quite the show! Tons of fresh produce, (some organic, some not; some heirloom varieties, some not), fresh flower bouquets, free-range chickens (plucked, skinned, and on ice, of course...), eggs from those chickens, local honey, and more! One of the local bakeries sells some fresh-baked pastries and today they even had some live, jazzy synthesizer music.

On Tuesday, I went to the same spot I had gone on the previous Tuesday and picked up some sweet potatoes, green beans, zucchini, yellow squash, and peaches. (By the way - in reference to my first posting suggesting I would never have to cook: It's been completely the opposite! I've actually been using my cookbooks - planning menus and making dinners (with dessert even - healthy ones so Chris will eat them, of course)!

Interestingly, at that table was not the same lady from whom I had purchased my goods the week before, but I gathered they were from the same place (what with the matching shirts and all). I stopped by the table selling blackberries on my way out, and as I was paying I noticed this (very) old man on the opposite side of the aisle straightening his produce in this seemingly forlorn, nobody's-picking-me-for-the-kickball-team sort of way. I suddenly had this overwhelming, heart-crushing feeling because I felt so bad for this octogenarian who was just trying to sell some veggies from boxes scrawled with "Home-Grown" in the dearest old man handwriting. I'm not sure why I was so emotional about this, but it nearly ruined my whole day!

So, I've been anxiously awaiting this Thursday morning for the last 48 hours so that I could go back and buy something from the poor guy! Of course, we aren't out of what I purchased on Tuesday, but I decided I could buy a bunch of green beans and freeze them for the winter. (Yes, I know, freezing green beans is not as good as canning them like my mom and grandma, but I'm working with what I've got - boiling water and freezer bags.)

As soon as I got there, I felt better as he was already helping one person, and another one stepped up before I got around to his side. As I was selecting my green beans, we started chatting – His name is George. He doesn’t have a “farm”; just a 5-acre garden at his house. He’s been gardening for over 60 years, but just decided in the last few years to start bringing some produce up to the market, which he loves to do because he gets to meet some great people. (Which I immediately interpreted as his wife died and this gives him something to do with his time and with the amount of food that is entirely too much for one man to consume! Why must I be so pathetically cynical?!)

George is the friendliest little man, albeit conversations are often punctuated by a questioning look and a pointing to his ear due to his elderly, hard-of-hearing issues. For those who love corn on the cob (wherever it comes from), I’ll pass along his tip of the day: Simply shuck it, silk it, and put it in a freezer bag. Suck out all the air from the bag with a straw (or if you’re hard-core and have a vacuum sealer, that works too), and freeze. He swears he’s got corn on the cob from two years ago that will still taste great whenever he wants it.

I just might have to break down and purchase some corn on the cob from him next week. We’ll definitely have to see if it will pass the “corn snob’s” test before we decide about freezing a bunch of it – but if anyone’s going to be able to convince me, it’s going to be my new friend George.

(Side note: I use the word friend, but I’m not sure we’re to the point in a friendship where I could ask him to take his picture yet without being socially awkward. So, no picture of George – for now…just imagine a little old frail man with a big smile. And speaking of his smile – I imagine he must have dentures (because my grandpa has false teeth, and so every grandpa must too, right?), which must present one heck of a problem trying to eat corn on the cob… We’ll definitely have to become better friends before I'm comfortable asking him that question!)