Farmer bounty

I talk the talk, but I don't always walk in the shoes I prize so highly. While I think it's awesome and wonderful and essential and terrific that there are local farmers' markets abounding, with plentiful, healthful produce available from local purveyors, I've never actually partaken of these glories close to home (on vacation, once in awhile, I'll take in a market for some local flavor and it usually is a great time and taste). So, only to keep a promise to a VERY close friend, nay, practically family, did I drag myself out of bed in the morning on the weekend to see what the close-by markets had to offer. (Technically, there is a Tuesday market on my way to work that I've been meaning to hit for...well, years, but I've never quite made it in early enough to justify to myself a side stop anywhere but Chipotle.)

So, this summer, I had this:

several times. Fresh-picked basil from the only prolific plants in our balcony garden, different varieties of heirloom tomatoes (some ugly, others crazily colored or striped, but all flavor-packed and delicious), and newly made cheese sold in cunning balls bought only after all the available options were sampled. Simple, yet fabulous.

So, yes I do so love the farmers' market. Now, if only they could arrange to open at noon...