I Wish I Did This More

In the five years I’ve lived here, I’ve never gone to the Farmer’s Market that’s right down the road. But today, my neighbor reminds me that a local Italian sells fresh ravioli stuffed with delicious combinations of flavors: salmon, artichoke and asiago, portobello, pizza, goat cheese and beets, asparagus, and more.

Ravioli calls my name. 

A moment later, I stroll with my pound of pepperoni pizza ravioli in my arms. I find I’m drawn in by the fresh, crusty bread from local bakeries and Amish families.

But first, I watch my husband talk about Silver Queen corn (his favorite from growing up in North Carolina) with a local farmer.

“Silver Queen is so old,” the farmer says. “We grow a better version called White Ice that you will love.” We buy several ears, and later, we agree that it’s absolutely the best corn we’ve ever had.

It feels like such a supreme luxury to go to such a market to buy food for the day. I watch folks carry their fresh eggs away, and I wonder why I’m not living like this all week.

Do you go to a Farmer’s Market each week? What do you buy there?

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  1. Indeed I do — I work at a local farm one day a week (with my little kiddo in tow) and at one of three farmer's markets in our county on another day of the week — all in exchange for some produce. I love it. I love every bit of the weed-pulling, prepping produce for harvest, lugging ginormous coolers of goods, setting up tables, and interacting with farmers and customers.

    And of course the eating of the farm fare is grande!

    Blessings. (I came over from THC)