Letter: Coastside Farmers Market field notes
I don’t know about you, Marketeers, but I am still trying to catch up on my sleep after a whirlwind o’ graduations, promotions, celebrations and elevations of all ilk and stripe. Lovely family suppers, barbeque of all varieties, and an all-night grad night chaperone stint had me so muddled that I forgot entirely that I was the host for the June meeting of my book group. I was reminded of this happy fact late in the day and well after the Market closed, so I had to figure out how to clean my house, mow 5 acres, repair a fence, change the tires on a tractor AND make a dinner for 12 rather discerning women (the next night!) on a shoestring budget of both cash and time.
I was out of luck on all things machinery related, but Thank Heavens for the collection of " I don’t know what I am going to do with this…" type items that I picked up as the Market was closing. These odd gleanings, a bag of rice, and the fine example of a long gone Italian chef from the dark past saved my bacon, and that of the fine women who arrived chez moi the next evening requiring nourishment before diving into a rousing and ever so elevated conversation about the superior grace of a well turned phrase to a gam of the same description, and the problems that cultural misapprehensions about silverware can wreak on social intercourse.
Risotto is a boon to the clock and pocketbook challenged. This is what I have learned over the years. I am convinced that somewhere in Italy , some resourceful chef absolutely blew it while cooking the rice for the Majordomo. He did everything backwards to begin with, then tossed some wine, onions and olive oil to cover up the evidence, plopped a few perfect peas and the last smidgen of lobster into the mix and poof! Presented as a masterpiece, it was.