After months of waiting it’s finally here, the Hip Donelson Farmer’s Market! All afternoon I kept checking the time – I wanted so badly to skate out of work early to be there when it opened at 4:00, but did the right thing and didn’t leave until quitting time at 5:00 pm. The parking lot was full but I didn’t even mind having to search for a spot – I was thrilled that so many people were there.
It was great to see the farmers – my farmers – their tables and coolers filled with wonderful food even though it’s still early in the season. As I watched them hustling to take care of Customers, I couldn’t help but smile – I’m so happy that business is good and that they are making a living from feeding all of us.
A little goat feta here, some onions and tomatoes there, turnips and radishes, buttery lettuce and spinach, cheddar and smoked Gouda, a plump whole chicken, and yes, strawberries. Unable to resist, I ate several cherry tomatoes and strawberries on the ride home. It was sunny and my moon roof was open and everything seemed right with the world.
This morning I stared in the refrigerator for quite some time, trying to figure out what I would take for lunch and fix for dinner. It hasn’t been a normal week – I actually left the house and dined with friends a couple of times so the normal supply of leftovers was non-existent. The best I could come up with for dinner was some leftover chicken I’d put in the freezer in some stock. Pretty lame.
Steak dinner at The Farm House
As I put my Farmer’s Market bounty away, however, an idea began to form and instead of the somewhat boring soup I’d planned to make, I put the chicken and stock in a cast iron skillet, cooked some egg noodles, added spinach and tomatoes to the chicken, tossed it all together, and topped it with some cream. Pretty delicious if I do say so myself.
It’s possible that it’s just a food coma, but I feel a sense of contentment that I haven’t felt in a while. After months of winter and so little in the way of fresh fruits and veggies, I can’t help but rejoice in the first harvest. The miracle of dirt and seeds and plants and food never ceases to amaze me and I’m overwhelmed with gratitude for all these gifts.