We finally made it to
the Saturday farmer's market. As promised, the array of goodies was
considerably larger than the already impressive Wednesday
offerings.
Mark said I looked only slightly less exuberantly amazed than the
toddler who was running in circles so erratically that she nose dived
into my knee by mistake.
As best I could tell in
my daze of delight, only one stand promised entirely organic produce.
But lots of others were marked "no spray," which I assume is the poor
man's version used by folks who haven't jumped through the hoops to be
officially labeled as organic. I chose copiously from both types of
farmers, falling back on conventional offerings only when I absolutely
couldn't
resist their wares.
New taste favorites that
we'll likely be trying to grow in the years ahead: sunflower
microgreens, middle eastern summer squash, and another stab at seckel
pears. As the books promised, a ripe seckel pear is indeed a taste
explosion. Mark called the result "magical." High praise from a
husband who's not given to hyperbole!