Farmers market goodies

The boys did not want to market with me this morning, and frankly, when I was sweating buckets while hauling heavy bags through the mid-morning swelter-fest I was glad they weren't there. They would have been so miserable, and the rare occasion to shop alone is always appreciated. I was touched by how many farmers asked about where the boys were, why wasn't the sheriff/cowboy present, and so forth. The community at the Dupont FM is so great- although many of us don't know each others' names, we know each other anyway, in a way based on regularity, kindness, small talk and the opportunities children offer in terms of laughter and conversation. I thanked Pleasant Pops (www.pleasantpops.com) profusely for the wonderful, cold popsicles that added so much to the party yesterday, told the meat guy that we knew someone in common, chatted about said acquaintance and wondered aloud about a bacon popsicle (I wasn't as thrilled as was he), and since one of the Pleasant Pops founders keeps kosher, I don't see that one coming to fruition. A fun morning despite the sea of humidity enveloping us all.

Everything looked beautiful and tasted so darn good. The blueberries are the blueberriest-tasting ones I've had this year. We are now rolling in peaches, corn, berries, and myriad other fruits and veggies. Tonight I'm going to put a lot of it to use via Hugh Acheson's cookbook- what better way to use okra, corn, fresh chicken, and garlic than to go South! I don't know that I've ever had gooseberries before, but they are fantastic. I think I'll just enjoy this box (upper right on the platter) plain and simple but with the currants - oh you elusive things- I believe I'll make another batch of my Love Letter Jam (rose petal and currant). And, having eaten my entire pint of pickled pattpans recently, I think I'll pickle these... These blackberries were also too good to pass up; they taste like the ones I used to pick in my Nanny's backyard. Her bushes were profligate producers, and we could indulge in berry eating for days and days, still having plenty to freeze for pies and cobblers.

These are gorgeous okra. I hope they're tender as fibrous okra are the pits!

Okra

I know okra has its detractors, but I am decidedly not one of them. Rather, I am an ardent fan of this digit-like, seedy, green member of the mallow family. Growing up in Louisiana, okra was a common guest at our dinner table: fried (coated in a light cornmeal batter), smothered (maybe with some onions), pickled (Talk o' Texas is my preferred brand of store-bought) and stewed (with tomatoes) were the most typical methods of cooking it, and I have since discovered the treat with which you're rewarded if you grill this humble pod. Several years ago, somewhere in the South -I think I was in a Whole Foods in TX- I came across another amazing way of treating okra: dried to a earthy green crisp-crunch, these "chips" are addictive. I've never seen them north of the Mason-Dixon, not even here in DC  though we are officially just south of it. But in Wilmington, NC, a few weeks back, I found them. Now down to my last few crumbs, I'm savoring them, sometimes alongside some pickled okra which is one of my all-time favorite goodies. If ever you come across these, snap them up and enjoy.