The great thing about a living in the place I grew up during the summer is that I don't worry whether people think I'm weird. I know they think I'm weird, but I also know (or hope) they like me anyways. I was reminded of the beauty of this comfort on Saturday, when basket-weaver and co-owner of Hubbard Brook Farms, Diane, sought me out at the farmer's market. I'd just done my rounds, gathered my goodies, and exclaimed over her and her husband (and co-owner) Kevin's beautiful and delicious strawberries. They're pictured above, and tasted as purple as they look; luscious, sweet, juicy...perfect. As I was standing in the cheese line, making friends with a couple who had just moved to Maine (probably imposing myself upon them, but hey, life is short and friends are precious) I heard someone calling my name. I turned around to see Diane running towards me, dodging shoppers and baby carriages and dogs (more after the jump).
"Charlotte!" she yelled, "look at this!" And she presented me with the weirdest looking strawberry I've ever seen. It's pictured above; there were three other berries growing out of it, and vines entangled among the red fruit. I exclaimed over it with her, took pictures of it, and we talked about how strange it looked. Then she said, "I just had a feeling you'd appreciate this. I'm collecting weird berries, and I thought you'd like that."
Did I ever. But almost more than the weird berry itself, I appreciated the fact that Diane knew I would appreciate it. That perhaps she thought, "Charlotte typically gets overexcited about our produce, and she's always got that camera with her, so she'll definitely get a kick out of this." I was so touched to be known, reached out to like that, by someone in my community. It made me feel a part of something bigger than myself. And what are we ever hoping to feel besides that?
And now, last weekend's farmers market in pictures:
Haruki turnips. Toss them with olive oil and salt, roast them for 40 minutes at 375 degrees, and they get all yummy and slightly caramelized. Amazing.
Bawk-bawk-bawk bok choi.
PEAS! YES! My dad and I eat these by the pound. We used to sit on the roof and eat them, throwing the shells off the edge. But then my mom started getting annoyed when the lawn, which is where they ended up, began looking like a pea cemetery. So now, when we eat them on them on the roof, we bring the shells back down. Slightly less fun, far less messy.
Garlic scapes. Best name for a vegetable ever.
Kevin bags my strawberries.
Another weird berry!
This week's activity: spinning wool! Into gold!
Aerial kale.
Aerial turnips.
Let us admire the above. Get it?
No more greens?
Broccoli!
Stunning flowers.
Carb city at Atlantic Baking Co.
Hahn's End, with butter!
Hard to argue with.
