The picture doesn’t do this bounty justice. All of which was less than seventeen bucks. And yes, that’s the last of the asparagus (sad to say goodbye—it’s been sooo good). The first (for me) of the strawberries—which, by the way, I learned recently, are best picked and eaten in the morning when the dew’s still on them—just in case any of you are heading out to a strawberry patch in the coming dewy days.
To the left, a pile of mini hothouse cukes, most of which got left out of the snap. (Tomatoes are also hothouse; I normally wait for vine-ripened, but it was my first day at the local farmers’ market, the sun was shining, and, well, I had a mad moment…)
I’m slightly insane about salads. They would be my preferred last meal were I to face a firing squad and be offered a choice.
This one includes nettles, dandelion leaves, mesclun, arugula, lambs’ quarters and purslane. Oh, and nasturtium leaves and flowers for oomph and a peppery je ne sais quoi-ish quality that never hurts and is not hard on the eyes.
Also garlic. I couldn’t resist pulling one from the still ripening crop. Normally the ‘First Garlic Bulb of the Season’ is almost a ceremonial event around here. Not this year. I just yanked one out and diced a few perfect, crisp, translucent, completely-unlike-the-stuff-from-China cloves, then topped the whole schmozzle with my favourite dressing: olive oil and fresh lemon juice.
Anyway, definitely oodles to choose from at this time of year, right from our own ‘backyard’. (It’ll be months before I step inside a grocery store again, except to buy detergent and sardines.)