One of my most vivid food memories as a child involves lunch at my grandparent's house during summers in Michigan. My grandfather, affectionately referred to as Poppy by my sister and I, always had a shallow green bowl filled with radishes. Just. Radishes. I assumed this was a "grown-up" food reserved only for Poppy and therefore never tried one.
Until Saturday.
I arrived at the farmer's market a little later than I had wanted (I watched a man buy the last flat of strawberries in the entire market leaving the rest of us completely fruitless unless we were willing to buy bananas from the guy on the corner who is clearly not selling what he grows or watermelon which I thought a tad cumbersome for me to carry on foot--though I did enjoy a ice cold slice on the way home!) thereby leaving me without 2 of my staples: strawberries and baby golden potatoes. After purchasing lettuce, tomatoes, sugar snap peas(addictive...seriously), real baby carrots (so sweet and tender you can't even imagine!), and bread I had some leftover money. For some reason, I was attracted to the radishes. Big bunches of bright red crispness just sounded good. Dang. Dang me. I don't think I've had a meal without a radish since Saturday afternoon. They're going in wraps, in sandwiches, on salads, and yes I'm eating them straight up plain. It's too beastly hot to think about roasted them (which I hear is the preferred method--it takes away the bite and sweetens them up a bit), but I'm okay with that. The best part? I think of Poppy every time I eat them.
And fear not! I manage to procure some local fruit thanks to the fruit stand on the way back from Sunset Junque--strawberries AND blueberries! I also picked up a little more asparagus and a sweeeeeeet container of wild mushrooms. I came thiiis close to buying morels, but at $42/lb they were a tad outside my price range.
The rest of my weekend was...well...huh. A weekend. Actually, Friday night was fun. Saturday was not. And Sunday t'weren't bad. In a misguided effort to remain consistent, I didn't call Dad yesterday for Father's Day as I failed to call my Mom on Mother's Day. Maybe next year instead of waiting until the day after, I'll manage to call the day before. This afternoon I head north to Spring Lake for therapy, thankthelittlebabyjesus, and post-that maybe the beach. It's hot here. Really miserably hot. Even with the prospect of cooling off in the lake, I'm not sure if I'll be up for the mile hike to get there.
Did I mention that it's hot?
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