Farmer's Market Fun

In the summertime, I receive a weekly box of produce from a CSA. You'd think that would be enough, but the pull of the Farmer's Market remains strong. In fact, this is the second time in a week I've been to a market.

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The weather is so variable. I realize two or three blocks after leaving home on the mile-long trek that I probably should have brought along a jacket or umbrella. But the temperature is warm enough that I decide just to relish the smell and feel of the rain, singing and whistling as it alternates between pouring, sprinkling and disappearing altogether. I have sympathy for one farm stand, where there is a stream of water cascading from their produce bags. One of the men taps the awning and it is as though a faucet has been turned on. Apparently a reservoir of water builds in between the sign and the tent itself. Fortunately, it looks as though the nearby customer is escaping unscathed.
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This afternoon, I'm on a mission for berries - a few weeks ago I picked up one of the last half flats before Hayton Farms sold out. This time when I trade my empty box for a dollar off a new half flat of raspberries, the young woman counters, "I'll give you 2 for $20". After confirming that I can mix and match I take her up on it with strawberries and raspberries, but no blackberries - they're never as satisfying as picking my own.

This is madness - Trent hates all fruit that grows on bushes (though bogs and trees are acceptable), so I will need to eat every berry on my own - but I'm sure that by Wednesday's market, I'll need another box or two. Later on, I run into a college guy with a similar stack of berries. "So she upsold you too?" I ask. He responds that with his love of berries he just can't resist. A kindred spirit.
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Waiting in line to buy apricot jam, the farmer encourages the woman ahead of me to try the tayberry jam. One of my coworkers was chortling over her acquisition of this unfamiliar berry earlier this week, so I sample a bite. Delicious! I learn that many flavorful berry crops can't be machine-picked and these are in danger of disappearing. I hope the farmer is successful in his encouragement of his son to fight against this and carry on the family farming legacy with crops that require such individual attention.
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Walking in the market in the warm rain, nibbling on raspberries (by the end of my trek, only five of the six cartons remain). A stoner standing in the middle of the pathway is entranced and approvingly says "oh yeah". I suspect he enjoys watching someone savor the delights of the harvest.
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The group in front of me at LaPasta debates the merits of the various varieties of pasta. Though one person in the family dislikes gnocchi, they decide to purchase some to serve with salmon. The Italian vendor advises them on the best method of preparing it. While it sounds delicious, I know that I'll be buying the smoked salmon ravioli to serve with a beet-cream sauce, a recipe I learned years ago from the same stand. This is fortunate, as they purchase the last two boxes of gnocchi.

My next stop is at Sea Breeze Farm to purchase the necessary cream. The gnocchi-woman is directly behind me and we talk about our dinner plans for the evening. She's intrigued by my pasta plans, especially when I tell her about the lovely pink color of the sauce, and has me repeat the recipe a couple of times so that she can recreate it another week.
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Buying sausage and bacon from Skagit Valley Ranch, another farmer comes up behind me and says to the owner, "I've got some shitake for you". She politely declines, but offers him bacon ends.

"How much?"
"For you, nothing."
"No, I can't - I want to trade or pay."

She still refuses and presses the bacon on him. He reluctantly agrees, and adds "okay, but I'm going to remember that you have shitake credit."
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A couple is sharing a crepe. "Nutella?" I ask.
"With banana - so good," they say, she daintily licking her fingers and he with a light layer of hazelnut spread on his cheek.

Later, in line for a ham gruyere crepe at Caravan Crepes, another couple stands behind me watching the preparation. The young black man shares in a confidential tone, "When I was in France, I ate so many crepes I almost got sick. That's all I would eat - that and french fries - that's all I could afford."

Trent and I retreat under a tree for shelter to share a few bites. It's 2:00 and the market is officially closed. Around us vendors roll up their signs and pack up their wares. Time to go home.
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Salmon Pasta with Beet Cream Sauce
Prepare salmon-filled pasta as directed. While waiting for the water to boil, heat a bit of butter (approx. 1 TBS) in a pan. Grate 1/2 - 1 beet into the butter and saute. Add about 1/2 pint of cream (half and half will work too in a pinch, but the sauce will be thinner) and simmer until sauce is thick. Remove from heat and add fresh grated parmesan to taste. Toss with pasta. Add additional parmesan at the table if desired. Serve with plenty of crusty bread to sop up the sauce.

Summer solstice

What a start to the summer! I hope that yesterday's fun sets the tone for the rest of the season. Running, walking, biking, sailing. Herons, Brewer's blackbirds and crows. Painted, nearly nude bicyclists with parade watchers darting through the throngs in search of a better viewing point. Friends, fabulous food and Farmer's markets. A perfect strawberry - the taste of summer. Grilling paneer and andouille on Rock Lobster, narrowly avoiding deep-sixing the food or the grill into Puget Sound. Sun shining 16 hours before slipping below the Olympics, while we sailed towards the sunset. The sweet gloaming time with the last remaining rays sparkling on the waters.

I am sleepier than normal today though, feeling hungover by the sun (minus the headache and nausea, but with the nagging feeling that I might have overdone it). My nose, forehead and shoulders are red, despite the sunscreen I applied. I'm slowly waking up to a new glorious day though, with a cup of Assam with allspice and a bacon and gouda breakfast sandwich. A vanilla candle flickers near my mug, reminding of my intention to meditate every day (though in reality, I've probably only done so 10-15 times in my life). I'm contemplating the potential adventures of this bright new day. Some writing, weights, church and more tea and after that, no concrete plans reminding me of the luxurious summers of my youth.

How did you spend your first summer day? What will you do on your summer vacation?

Bluegrass Living

Monday night is now music night! For the past couple of years, I've been a "sailing widow" on Monday nights. While Trent is off winning beer glass trophies in the Ballard Cup to add to the fireplace mantle, I dine or knit with friends. This year I'm throwing something different into the mix. My choir takes a break during the summer months - it's just too hard to get a consistent group together - and every summer, I feel a sense of loss. So this year, as choir wrapped up, I decided to look into voice lessons and came across a Bluegrass Harmonies class at Dusty Strings. Now I'm no bluegrass expert - in fact, my knowledge is limited mainly to Alison Krauss, the O Brother, Where Art Thou sound track, and a couple of c.d.s purchased from buskers at the University District Farmer's Market. But I do love to sing along to the soulful tunes - and the price, time and location were right, so Monday after arriving home from our Orcas adventure, I set off to Fremont for the first class in the six-week series.

There were two other students in the class - a mom who played piano in college that wants to sing with her kids and a returning student who is taking the class so he can harmonize with his wife (who will be attending some of the future classes as well). Jason, our earnest instructor, has a long country beard and a bluegrass accent. He started the class by asking if we wanted to work on any particular songs, which we met with doe-in-the-headlights silence. Undeterred, he pulled out three songs for us to work on: In the Pines (which I recognized from Nirvana's cover, Where Did You Sleep Last Night?), Bury Me Beneath the Willow and Love Me Darlin' Just Tonight. I enjoyed singing with others, especially for the few lines where we actually were able to belt out a harmony, rather than quietly mumbling and hoping that one or two of the notes would actually work with the melody. Part of the challenge is trying to harmonize in a song whose melody is unfamiliar, which should be less of a problem this week, since I've been practicing these songs at home, in the car, on my bike and walking down the street. By the end of the class, each of us chose songs to work on in future weeks (mine is I'll Fly Away).

What excites me most about taking this class is that it really is just for me. I tend to be open to trying on the passions of friends and family - sailing, climbing, trapeze - things that enrich my life and give me an opportunity to connect with others, but this is an opportunity to follow my own heart, whether it leads to a bluegrass career, or (more likely) better technical skills and a new group to sing with.

(Almost) Summertime and the Living is Easy

I'm just back from a long weekend in the San Juan Islands and I feel like a kid on the last day of summer vacation. I'd love to explore the Islands for another month or so, rather than going back to work bright and early tomorrow.

Trent and I set off on Thursday to celebrate my good friend Jessi's birthday - she and her guy Chris are sailors with a boat moored in Anacortes, much faster access to the San Juans than Shilshole (where we are moored). After a slow motor against the current, we arrived at the vacation rental home on Orcas Island at about 5 p.m. and ferried four folding bikes, several heavy bags of groceries, our clothes & toiletries and of course, ourselves. Chris determined that the easiest way to get everything back and forth without wearing out anyone's back and arms would be to rig a long line at the boat and another at shore to tow back and forth. It worked perfectly once we got a long enough line attached.

The house was perfect, just a short walk away from the beach with a mooring ball for visitors to tie up against, kayaks (to use at your own risk), plenty of space for the 10 adults and one baby at the celebration, a striking view of Mt. Baker and wildlife galore - deer, bats, frogs, wild turkeys and numerous robins and other birds that break into continuous song starting at about 5 a.m.

On Friday, we set off for one of my favorite islands - Sucia, the crown jewel of the state marine park system (at least according to their website). The wind was fairly light, so Trent and I explored the water line near Fossil Bay while the rest of our party hiked some of the 10 miles of trails. Though initially hesitant due to my limited kayaking experience, I'm now convinced that we need inflatable kayaks to bring aboard Rock Lobster. You get such a different perspective from a sailing boat, with no need to worry about grounding, but with far easier steering than our dinghy. We got close to an otter, before he dove off his rock.

Saturday we went into the town of Eastsound on four folding bikes, two road bikes, a recumbent tandem bicycle and a car. The plan: the Saturday Farmer's Market, where everything is local to Orcas and Island Hoppin' Brewery. Produce-wise, the UDistrict Farmer's Market is far superior to Orcas this time of year, but there are some mighty tasty lunch options. We had breaded & fried oysters followed by ice cream sandwiches (chocolate cookies with chocolate ice cream for me and chocolate cookies with salted caramel ice cream for Trent). We took a quick trip to buy provisions for our night of cooking dinner before continuing to the brewery. I thought the A Street Wheat beer was quite quaffable, while Trent preferred the Rip Tide Porter. Afterwards, we parted ways and continued biking to the lake at Moran State Park. We sat at a picnic table in the sun playing Bananagrams and hoping that the tiles would not fall through the cracks. Afterwards, we returned to Eastsound for gelato at Enzo's. Sadly, we consumed no cinnamon rolls throughout the entire long weekend.

On Sunday, our last complete day, we did a short hike up to Mt. Constitution. From the lookout, we sighted Sucia, where we had so recently sailed. With our appetites stoked from the hike, we visited Rosario and dined at the Cascade Bay Grill, an unassuming building with a small grocery store and coffee stand attached, with a great view of the marina, and a killer bourbon pecan bread pudding.

6 a.m. wake up this morning, leaving the mooring ball at 8:15. Much faster motoring due to favorable current got us to Anacortes by 12:30 and we were home again, home again, jiggety jig by 2ish. Now I'm inspired to plot and plan the stops for our longer sail to the San Juans and Gulf Islands in August. Any recommendations for island stops along the way are greatly appreciated!

Tangletown Tourist

Wow! I've had the hardest time thinking of a blog topic for the week. I tend to be drawn to travel posts, sharing my discoveries of interesting places and activities. But this weekend, I stuck close to home. No bus trips, no car rides - even my one bicycle journey was less than 2.5 miles roundtrip.

And yet, there was never a dull moment. I am extremely fortunate to live in a neighborhood with activities galore. Saturday commenced with a run around Green Lake. I live less than a mile away from this Seattle destination and enjoy watching the myriad dogs, kids, and exercisers. I'm always surprised if I don't run into people I know while I'm there - from the neighborhood, church or the library world. My favorite sight this weekend: two photographers in a Tai Chi pose trying to capture the majesty (and oddity) of a heron on a log.

After Green Lake, I managed to cajole Trent to join me at the University District Farmer's Market (I have a not-so-secret-fantasy that I am a vendor of pastries or produce there) for lunch. My choice: a veggie quesadilla from Patty Pan Grill, which I had been craving since a Wednesday night visit to the Wallingford Farmer's Market. Trent's selection: two salmon sliders from Loki. Loki's prepared food is a more recent addition to the market and I will have to give it a try next time around. Of course, a springtime visit to the Farmer's Market would not be complete without a half flat of strawberries, sugar snap peas, asparagus and a growler of Rachel's Ginger Beer. Our newest must-have is Greek yogurt from Ellenos Real Greek Yogurt - super decadent, this is much more like ice cream than your typical yogurt.

We parted ways, but reunited for iced coffee at Chaco Canyon, our local hippie cafe, which touts the fact that they cater to high-maintenance menu needs. Vegan? Raw? Gluten-free? They've got something delicious for you. Got a compact florescent light bulb to dispose of? They'll recycle it for you. Unlike most local coffee establishments, they serve their ice drinks in a reusable cup, which totally appeals to my environmental side.

Dinner contained a number of local home-made options - wheat berry salad using some of the wheatberries remaining from last year's Local Choice CSA and chorizo sausages from Skagit River Ranch grilled up on the George Foreman and served with Trent's sister's homemade walnut mustard.

We finished up the evening with leftover rhubarb crisp (a classic Betty Crocker recipe with rhubarb from last week's market) and Jeopardy re-runs on Crackle.

This morning after weights and church (for me), we headed out to lunch and were disappointed to note that Hiroki had completely run out of savory options (we often eat a turkey egg gruyere roll or a sausage caraway roll), so we dined at Zoka instead (which has superior coffee, but inferior lunches - at least for a husband who hates caprese sandwiches) and returned to Hiroki for a chocolate pot de creme. Another quick walk to Green Lake before returning to my front yard to bask in the sun and wait for my book club to arrive for further merriment.

I feel exceedingly lucky to have so many wonderful cafes, restaurants and bars to enjoy without leaving the confines of my neighborhood. What are some of your neighborhood treasures?