Dreaming of the Farmers Market

I’ve been dreaming of the farmers market–literally. Last night I dreamt that my husband and I were handling the final arrangements for this year’s market when we were thwarted by a ne’er-do-well. We really do need to get those applications out for the summer season.

I miss the market. Though it consumed our entire weekend and the better part of the week too, I was sad when the season closed on our inaugural year. Now it’s time to get ready for our second year and I’m salivating in anticipation–thinking about those perfumed heirloom French melons, those richly flavorful multi-colored tomatoes and the peaches that were so juicy they’d burst in our mouths.

The summer started with carrots and greens. Then the tomatoes came, and the peppers and the fruit.

And the season progressed. Greens were always available, but then came the winter squash (which still has a home on our kitchen counter) and celery that actually tasted like celery–really, truly, and deeply of celery.

And the broccoli too. We musn’t forget the broccoli, and pears and potatoes. My little dude loved the purple potatoes best. How can you not? They’re purple!

You can’t forget the flowers either. The beautiful, organic bouquets of sunflowers, amaranth and snapdragons.

It was at the farmers market that we found our cow share and enjoyed our first taste of fresh, raw milk. Now my son knows the cows by name.

I did a lot of preserving this summer too: tomatoes, corn, cucumbers, plums, beets, turnips, greens, green beans all made the list.

And peaches too. Peaches that I’m turning into peach clafoutis for wintertime desserts.

I miss it. This summer I’ll plan the food preservation better. With a little luck, a little forethought and a whole lot of work we can eat local every day through the dark depth of winter despite the fact that our market will only run 17 weeks.

I think I miss the plums most of all.