A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to The...

...farmer's market. Okay, so it's Sunday morning at about 8:30 a.m. and I am driving to the farmer's market. I'm on a two lane one way street in the left lane (with the parking lots on my left) and there is an older maroon Toyota in the right lane just a few feet in front of me. As the parking lot entrance approaches on my left, the maroon Toyota starts turning in to it from the right lane causing me to slam on my brakes in order to miss the idiot driving the Toyota. I was WILDLY UNHAPPY and laid on the horn a few times, vocalized some choice words loudly, then followed the moron in to the parking lot. To get the market, I have to walk right in front of idiot driver's car. Without paying much attention, I say rather loudly "Do you ever LOOK before you change lanes???" Rather quickly, the passenger door opens and I'm soon face to face with a ferocious looking 4' 5" Hmong grandma. Actually, it was really more like my sternum to her face, but it felt much worse because she was having none of my ranting. So, I let it go and moved on quickly to start and finish my shopping because I'm certain that within minutes grandma is going to go to all the Hmong vendors, make them raise their prices just for me, then spit on my produce. Bad grandma.
But that's not all. When I cross the street there are three guys looking at me. A few things are pretty clear to me about these guys:
1. They have no real interest in the market beyond waiting for their wives to get done.
2. My near miss is the coolest thing they've ever seen before 9:00 a.m.
3. There was some look in their eyes that said they wanted to bond with me over my near death experience. (I dramatize, but you never know what could have happened without prompt braking.)
Sure enough, as I approach them they start smiling and laughing and saying things like "Do you need any witnesses?" "That was pretty cool." "Do you want us to beat 'em up?" I reply by saying it has taken me 20 years to get used to Minnesota drivers and I'm still surprised. I also advise them to watch for the car's occupants and let me know if they can take them in a fight. They were still chuckling as walked away, but I imagine they caught a glimpse of grandma shortly thereafter and instinctively knew she could kick all their asses in about 30 seconds. Bad mean grandma.

I Heart Sunday Mornings

Got up this morning, put on yesterday's clothes (its not bad hygiene, its weekend recycling!) and toddled off to the farmer's market. Today is a gorgeous autumn day- clear blue skies and a crisp 58 degrees. Monday will be 80 degrees. So much for autumn. Anyway, the farmer's market was fabulous. The cool weather keeps away most baby carriages, so I am able to wander at will, my mind free of homicidal thoughts.
Fall produce beats summer produce hands down because later varieties of veggies are superior to the flavorless uber-hybrids that mature earlier in the season. The sweet corn is tastier, the heirloom tomatoes are ripe, the good green beans are ready and it is leek season. Hooray! I bought some leeks, a loaf of potato bread, some green beans and a cauliflower. I bought the cauliflower because I was impressed that the guy grew it locally and it was huge and perfect. Good job!
I couldn't find any rosemary for the potato leek soup that I had in mind, so ended up stopping by Whole Foods. I try to avoid Whole Foods for two reasons: 1. It is so freakin' expensive and 2. I leave with too much cheese. It happened again: Australian Cheddar, a nice Gruyere and a baked something or other cheese, along with some peaches and fresh figs.
Got home, pulled out the crock pot, added some stock and cream, diced potatoes and minced rosemary, then browned some leeks, garlic and pepper in butter. YUM! I love the taste of slightly caramelized leeks. YUM again. All of this while listening to Speaking of Faith on MPR.
Now I'm having coffee and dinking around on the computer before getting to some cleaning. The perfect Sunday morning.

I Miss My Mom

At the farmer's market this morning I picked up a couple dozen ears of sweet corn thinking that I would freeze some of summer for the winter. This afternoon as I'm blanching the ears and slicing the kernels from the ears, I got a little nostalgic and started missing my mom. My mom died of complications of leukemia in 2000. Remarkably, people are right about never getting over the loss, but instead just getting used to it. So, occasionally these little waves of grief come over me. Now, as opposed to the first year or so after she died when things were really painful, I have come to sort of enjoy the little grief moments as it gives me some time to reflect and be grateful for her.
The reason I got sentimental in the first place was that my mom used to freeze about 40 quarts of corn at the end of every summer as far back as I can remember. I froze about 8 pints today from the 24 or so ears I picked up today. My mom did a lot of corn by comparison. I used to help her take the husks off and stood by when she cut the kernels off after blanching the ears. Now, as back then, the coolest part is when you're cutting the kernels and get 3 or 4 intact rows of corn in a slice, then pop it in your mouth. It doesn't taste any better or different than the rest of the corn. Its just fun. So that's me, missing my mom today. Tomorrow, I'll miss her for something else. She was pretty great.