The Kitchen Garden Accomplished - Part III

Out there in the once hardscrabble piece of dirt there is now a healthy array of edibles. Over the course of 3 weekends I planted my little corner of the world with the types of produce I love most. With a little bit of sweat, and not too much trouble the new kitchen garden has come to fruition.

During the last week of February, after the side yard had been cleared and the raised beds had been built, I got busy sewing the first batch of seeds. I devoted one whole 4' x 4' bed to vegetables of the green leafy variety - an assortment of lettuces, spinach, and chard namely. I intentionally planted this entire bed with plants that would mature and be consumed early in the season. I am always on-board for a taste of instant gratification.

I planted an assortment of herbs this first week also - some from seed, but most as transplants. I limited the seeds to an heirloom Lemon Basil and a Slow-Bolt Cilantro. I have read that the "Slow Bolt" varieties are the only cilantro varieties worth planting here in Central Texas, as cilantro is notorious for its intolerance of the blistering heat. But I've also been told that even the slow bolt types won't do particularly well if they are planted too late, or if we experience a hotter-than-usual month of May. I have to say I feel a certain empathy for the cilantro. Over the course of just two summers here in Texas, I have also gained a near-infamous reputation as being particularly intolerant of the Texas heat.

I shouldn't have to worry about the rest of my herbs; they are tougher, and more tolerant of the heat. My collection of culinary herbs includes all the usual suspects- both a Garlic and an Onion Chive, Greek Oregano, Russian Tarragon, Sweet Marjoram, an English Thyme and a Mother of Thyme, Golden Sage, and some Curly Parsley. I love to cook with fresh herbs and immediately started to take advantage of the fact that they were now so conveniently available to me - a few sprigs of Thyme for a potato leek soup, and some fresh-cut Chives as a garnish. There is something so deeply satisfying in walking out the front door, scissors in hand, and returning with ingredients you will cook with that very minute.

I have missed this sense of satisfaction.

And finally, this last weekend in February I planted my first batch of Radish seeds. They were, of course, the first thing to sprout, and strictly speaking, the first harvest from the new kitchen garden. When I thinned the seedlings, I saved to sprouts, carefully washing and trimming them. The sprouts have a mildly peppery flavor very similar to the actual radish, and I enjoyed them on my salads and sandwiches for a week.


The next weekend, the first weekend in March, I got out of bed extra early on Saturday, and postponed my run until Sunday, so I could attend the Sunshine Community Garden Annual Plant Sale. The sale is the annual fundraiser for the garden, and as I was later informed "a classic Austin endurance test". I wanted to be supportive of the community garden, but apparently so did every other gardener in the city of Austin. When my partner and I arrived I was both shocked and disappointed to discover a sea of people. And oddly enough they all seemed to be just standing around - there was no milling about or browsing. My confusion must have shown because I was promptly approached by a helpful volunteer who very sincerely asked "are you looking for which line to choose?" I was speechless, and slack-jawed. He politely pointed out that the "...line for herbs was there. Line for tomatoes there. Peppers and eggplants there. And then the line to pay is way back there." By my estimation it would have taken 3 to 4 hours of standing in slow-moving lines to buy a few veggies. I wish that I had the virtue of patience, but I do not. I left empty handed.

Because I was up early and had sacrificed my run, I decided to spend the rest of the morning downtown wandering the Farmer's Market with my partner instead. Only one farmer had transplants available - from him I purchased a Roma Tomato, an Anaheim Pepper, and a Basil plant. A small, but reasonable consolation for the Plant Sale gone bad.


On Sunday, still in need of plants, I went to my favorite nursery and was able to find most, but not everything, I want to grow. For Tomatoes I picked a Sun Gold, and a Viva Italia. For Peppers I chose Red Beauty, Golden Summer, Sweet Banana, Habenero, Gypsy, and a Cubanelle. What I didn't get was eggplants, and a few additional heirloom tomatoes that were recommended to me by a friend. The nursery had not yet seen any of the heirloom tomatoes, and had already sold out of eggplants, but they were expecting another shipment mid-week.

All of these transplants went into the ground on Monday morning, along with another batch of Cilantro seeds, Bush Bean seeds, and a small hill of Summer Squash from seed. I was hoping to take advantage of a forecast that called for rain, although I didn't entirely believe it. I've learned to not hold my breath when the forecast calls for rain.

But, it did rain. It rained steady for 3 days straight. It was the most rain we have seen here in Austin since August of 2007, with totals that ranged from 3-4 inches. It was gloriuos. Sadly, it is not enough to provide much relief to the ranchers or the rivers, but it was certainly enough to feed my new garden.

I made one last trip to the nursery on one of those rainy days, after the mid-week shipment had been predicted to arrive, and before the weekend crowds. I was able to find all that I was looking for to complete my garden, and little bit extra to boot. I have the 3 heirloom Tomatoes - a Mr. Stripey, Cherokee Purple, and a Rainbow BL. I filled out my pepper collection with a Jalapeno and a Serrano. And they had indeed received another shipment of Eggplant - I picked two each of Calliope and Ichiban. On impulse I also added some Pickling Cukes, Garlic sets, a small army of Basil plants, and Marigolds and Cosmos as companion plants.

The skies cleared up, and I planted all of this, along with a second sewing of Radishes and some Shallots from my kitchen, on Monday, March 16th, the day before St. Patrick's Day.


My new kitchen garden is densely and diversely planted. It is a well-stocked 112 sq. ft. and I am hopeful that the harvest will be plentiful. In some ways the effort to pull together this new kitchen garden was substantial - the tilling, the construction, the truckload of soil, and the multiple trips to multiple suppliers for the plants. But there was also a healthy amount of pleasure in these efforts - time spent with my sturdy helper, gifting the extra soil to a friend, and time spent outside enjoying the weather and getting to know my community. Overall, the effort, and certainly the money, are a small price to pay for the continued enjoyment and the fresh organic produce it promises to provide.

Risotto

I haven't forgotten about part III of the Garden Series of posts, it's only been delayed by the weather. We've been having what will most certainly be the final cold front of the season here in Central Texas. We've also had rain. Much needed long over-due rain. In fact, in the last four days we've had more rain here in Austin than we've had since August of 2007!

When the blustery weather chases me out of the garden, I retreat to the kitchen.

The cold, gray, damp days were perfect for comfort foods, and one of my favorite comfort foods is risotto. Risotto originated in Northern Italy. It is a creamy, hearty dish that is substantial enough to serve as a main dish. For larger groups, or especially big appetites, risotto pairs beautifully with fish. Risotto is traditionally made with Arborio rice - a short grained Italian rice. Arborio is an essential staple in any well-stocked pantry.

Risotto with Zucchini and Parmesan

1 1/2 cups Arborio Rice
5 cups vegetable or chicken stock heated
2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 small onion diced
2 gloves garlic minced
1 medium zucchini chopped
Juice of 1/2 a lemon
1 tablespoon butter
1 cup grated Parmesan
kosher salt
fresh ground white pepper
6 fresh basil leaves (for garnish)


Heat the stock in a saucepan, and set to simmer. In a separate saucepan heat the 2 tablespoons of butter and the olive oil. Add the onions and cook until tender. Add the garlic and zucchini and cook for about 5 minutes. Add the rice and stir until toasted, about 1 minute. Add one ladle of the hot stock to the rice mixture and stir until absorbed. Continue to add the stock one ladle - about 1/4 of a cup - at a time, stirring until absorbed and then adding another, until all of the stock is gone. The rice should be tender, and the risotto should have a creamy texture. (If not, add a bit more hot water.) Remove from heat. Add the lemon juice, the 1 tablespoon of butter, and 3/4 of the Parmesan cheese. Stir until the cheese melts. Add salt and pepper to taste. Garnish each serving with a sprinkling of the remaining Parmesan cheese and a chiffonade of fresh basil.

Serves 4-5 as a main dish

Risotto is a very versatile dish. I have included zucchini but that could be replaced with asparagus, or spinach. I've also used fresh goat cheese instead of the Parmesan. Risotto is a little labor intensive - it can take up to 45 minutes for all the stock to be absorbed. I recommend that you put on a favorite CD and pour yourself a glass a wine while you cook.

Enjoy!

Creamy Blue Cheese Dressing

What do you do when your organic grocery delivery service surprises you with a stalk of local, organic celery? If you're me, you make a Creamy Blue Cheese Dressing for dipping. I whipped up this dressing with what I had on hand, which by a stroke of either luck or genius, included a good-sized hunk of artisan Blue Cheese from Brazos Valley Cheeses. I had picked up the cheese at the Farmer's Market about a week prior, and had only indulged in about half of it. This dressing can be stored in the fridge for several days in an airtight container. I love it as a dip for celery and "lathe-turned" carrots - Crudite if you're fancy or French. You could of course use it on a salad, and if it suits you - buffalo wings.

4 ounces of a good blue cheese
1/2 cup organic sour cream
1/4 cup organic plain yogurt
2 Tablespoons fresh chives finely minced

Combine the cheese, sour cream, and yogurt in the food processor and puree until creamy. Transfer to a bowl if using right away, or your airtight container if you intend to have it around for a few days. Stir in the chives. Chill and enjoy!

Makes 1 cup

Building the Kitchen Garden - Part II

The new kitchen garden is well underway, the construction is complete, and I couldn't be more pleased. Last weekend my sturdy helper and I woke up early, got our run out of the way, and headed to the local mega-home improvement store to rent a roto-tiller. For a sum well under $100 we had the use of a powerful power tool for a 24-hour period.


We proceeded to remove the turf from the entire side yard. The only thing we would spare is the spindly Fig Tree we rescued from someone's trash and planted last year. I chose the location based mostly on the fact that it is the only piece of our yard that gets full sun. This piece of the front yard was hardscrabble at best: I have never really taken care of it. It had been reseeded at some point with a type of grass completely inappropriate for the blistering Central Texas summers. And unfortunately, because it sits on the corner of our lot it gets a lot of dog traffic, and not all of my neighbors are as consistent about cleaning up after their dogs as I am.

I harbor high hopes that by revamping this area from a rough-and-tumble piece of turf into a thriving garden it will curb some of the ill-mannered littering that goes on there. I know for sure it will look better- lusher, greener, and more lived-in. These are the added benefits of my new kitchen garden.

My sturdy helper ran that tiller all day. I followed behind. Slowly, and with much tedium we picked and plucked every bit of old grass and weeds out of the area. We raked and re-raked. And at the end of a very long day we retired to the couch with take-out, a bottle of Vihno Verde, and a Woody Allen movie.

Sunday we rose again, feeling rested, refreshed, and pleased as punch with ourselves for what we had accomplished on Saturday. We loaded the rented tool into the back of my tiny car, and made the quick trip back to return the rental and purchase the lumber we would need to finish the job.

We spent a good portion of the day building the beds. We used untreated lumber, and I highly recommend that if you try this at home you also use untreated lumber. The chemicals used to weatherproof lumber can leech into your soil, and therefore your food. We built a total of seven 4' x 4' raised beds and arranged them randomly around our newly tilled piece of land. These beds will give me a total of 112 sq. ft. of kitchen garden, which isn't overly ambitious by anyone's standards, but is plenty for a household of two.


The previous week I had made the trip out to The Natural Gardner - my local organic garden center and nursery. When I walked in I asked for help, and I was lucky enough to have asked someone who was not only willing but able to help a lot. I told her my plan, showed her my drawings, and made it clear that I was a transplant from Minnesota and that this was my first attempt at gardening in Texas. She was a fountain of useful information; providing me with charts of what to plant when, and which varieties are best adapted to our growing conditions. She showed me the seeds, talked about soil amendments, and then marched me off to the dispatch office to hook me up with some dirt.


That truckload of organic soil was delivered to me and my waiting raised beds mid-week. Based on a bit of complicated math, I had ordered 3 cubic yards, which is a lot. Not being one to sit around when there's work to be done, and motivated by my excitement and enthusiasm, I filled all of my beds that same afternoon. Wheelbarrow load by wheelbarrow load, I got the job done. Then I added the recommended soil amendments; Glistening Green Sand, which is basically potash and iron, Cottonseed Meal, and worm castings.


As it turned out, I had too much dirt for the job. About 1 cubic yard too much. I blame the math. Fortunately, I have friends who garden and I was able to gift the extra dirt to them. I was glad to do it, and they were glad to have it.

By dinner on Sunday the construction of the new kitchen garden was complete. The best thing about the construction process was a realization that I had picked an ideal location for my new kitchen garden. Not just for all the reasons I stated above, but because I was out there in plain view while I worked and people noticed. Countless folks stopped to chat, ask questions and offer their encouragement. It became clear that I would not only harvest edibles from this space, I will also get to know my neighbors, and the folks who travel around the neighborhood. This is a benefit I had not forecast, but which I welcome.

Stay tuned for Part III - In which I plant the Kitchen Garden.

The Genesis of a Kitchen Garden Part I

Two-and-a-half years ago I moved away from Minneapolis after having lived there my whole life, and landed in Austin TX. I miss a lot of things about Minneapolis; tulips, marmots, and rain among them. But the thing I miss most of all is my kitchen garden. I have had a garden most of my adult life; growing food comes naturally to me, but not here in Texas.

Growing vegetables in Texas is possible, in fact I've read that it's even quite popular, but it's a totally different ball game than growing vegetables in Minnesota. For starters, here in Central Texas we get two short growing seasons separated by the inferno of summer. Where I come from you wouldn't dare plant a tomato before Mother's Day, but here in Texas if they're not in the ground by St. Patrick's Day it's probably already too late. The timing is different, the pests are different, and the soil is different. It was clear to me the first time I visited Austin in early March and saw the nursery marquee advertising "spring vegetables" that I would have a lot to learn if I wanted to garden here in Central Texas.

So while the learning curve is high, and it feels like a whole new world, I do long for a garden and have decided that this, my third Spring here in Texas, is the Spring that I am finally going to plant a kitchen garden.

Armed with a few Texas-specific gardening books, my tools, and a sturdy helper, I have taken on the task of converting a ragged, neglected, and mostly pretty rough piece of turf into a completely organic, raised bed kitchen garden. Clearly, I've got my work cut out for me; there is turf to till, beds to build, soil to be hauled in, and plants to plant. But with some hard work, a little planning, and a truckload of luck I will soon have a kitchen garden once again.

Stay tuned for Part II - The Building of a Kitchen Garden

Salsa Fresca

Salsa Fresca
This recipe makes a mild salsa that's tangy and alive. If you'd like a hotter salsa try two jalapenos instead of one, or one jalapeno and one Serrano pepper. Personally, I have never met a chip I didn't like or a salsa too hot so I use two Serranos. Like most things, this salsa is best if you can pick the ingredients straight from your garden, but if you just have to have fresh salsa in the off-season use organic produce grown as close to home as possible. Or better still, make several batches while the ingredients are available and freeze them.

3 cloves of garlic
1 small onion coarsely chopped
1 large jalapeno pepper coarsely chopped
5 roma tomatoes coarsely chopped
1 bunch fresh cilantro
juice of 2 whole limes
2 tablespoons of organic olive oil

Begin with the garlic, onion and pepper in the food processor or blender and pulse until finely minced. Add the tomatoes and cilantro and puree until smooth. Add the lime juice, and the oil and blend again just briefly until well integrated. Serve with tortilla chips, of course. The salsa will keep in the refrigerator for a few days, or it can be frozen.

Makes 4 cups

Enjoy!

Julie and Julia - A Foodie Book I'd Recommend

My neighbor and friend left a rather tattered copy of Julie and Julia by Julie Powell in my mailbox with a tiny Post-it note attached that read, "It will either make you puke or laugh." I was intrigued. I had no real idea what the book was about, and I'm not now, nor have I ever been, a fan of Julia Child. I don't have anything against her, I just don't know that much about her. I've never seen her show, never cooked any of her recipes, and I don't own any of her books. But I love food, and I love good writing, and I especially love to read good food writing. So I gave the book a go.

The book is a memoir. A food memoir that grew out of the yearlong project, The Julie/Julia Project. Julie Powell was a 29 year old New Yorker, working in a dead-end job as a secretary for a government agency, when she decided to cook all 524 recipes in her stolen copy of Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking in 365 days, and blog about it daily. No small task, clearly. The book chronicles that year of cooking with wit, down-home honesty, and occasional irreverence.

No matter that Julia Child was a stranger to me when I started this book. She is not the star of this book. Julie Powell is. And while yes, I did learn a thing or two about Child, and even grew to admire her some, it is Powell who I learned to love in these pages. She is funny and genuine, and a joy to read. She drinks a little too much and is prone to fits of weeping, but she is also an inspiration to anyone who has ever dared to try something new with their lives.

Sunday Brunch - A Celebration

It is no great revelation that we as people have a long history of food as the main attraction at our celebrations. Most of our major holidays center on the idea of feasting, Thanksgiving is of course the most obvious example. Even those holidays that are not completely food-centric still have a canon of traditional foods associated with them - Easter Ham, Christmas Goose, July Fourth BBQ, and the favorite of many The Birthday Cake. We commemorate major occasions and accomplishments with food and beverage - A champagne toast, a graduation buffet, and a post funeral potluck are just a few examples.

These food traditions help to define us culturally, they ground us geographically, and unite us with a common bond. I'm no social anthropologist, in fact I'm mostly just a girl with her own sordid history with food, but it seems to me that this is at least partly because food, quite simply, makes us feel good. It gives us comfort, nurtures us, and when it's at its best it can bring us oh-so-much joy.

It was in the spirit of traditional celebratory feasting that I planned a recent brunch. I run, and most of my friends run, and so it was no coincidence that several of us were all running the same local Half Marathon. And since running hard for 13.1 miles is both an accomplishment worthy of commemoration, and enough to make a person darn hungry, I thought what better way to celebrate, and to feed our well-earned appetites than a post-race Sunday Brunch.

Several people contributed to the spread - we had two different quiches, we had biscuits, we had muffins, and we had strata (which incidentally those of us originally from the Midwest were familiar with, while the native Texans had never heard of). We also had mimosa. Because nothing says celebration like champagne, but also because 9:00 AM is a little too early to hit the bottle straight, and everything's better with orange juice.

My contribution to the meal was fruit - The Sunday Fruit Salad. I dreamed up the recipe while tossing and turning sleeplessly from pre-race jitters the night before the race.

(See previous post for recipe)

I was victorious. My friends liked it. It's a pretty simple recipe really, but the basil and honey add an unexpected twist. Together they are the little something different that will prompt your guests to ask, "What did you do to the fruit?" The mostly tart fruits make this salad bright, and refreshing, perfect for after a long run, or when the weather turns warm and sticky. I would recommend that you cut your fruits into rather small bits, about the size of the blueberries. Doing so will make the salad a touch delicate and slightly elegant.

There are not a lot of choices for Texas local fruits in January. In fact, I can only think of citrus when pressed. So while everything in my version of The Sunday Fruit Salad was organic, only the honey and basil were locally produced. Depending on what time of year you make this dish, and where you live, you may or may not be able to go local. Either way, I would advocate for the fruits I've included - they play off each other perfectly both in appearance and flavor.

Enjoy!

The Sunday Fruit Salad

The Sunday Fruit Salad

A simple recipe really, but the basil and the honey add an unexpected twist. Together they are the little something different that will prompt your guests to ask, "What did you do to the fruit?" The mostly tart fruits make this salad bright and refreshing. I recommend that you cut your fruits into smallish bit, about the size of the blueberries. Doing so will make the salad a touch delicate and slightly elegant. Depending on what time of year you make this dish, and where you live, you may or may not be able to go local. Either way, I would advocate for the fruits I've included - they play off each other perfectly both in appearance and taste.

1 pint fresh organic blueberries
1 pint fresh organic strawberries cut into small bits
3 organic kiwis peeled and cut into small bits
2 small organic tangerines (clementines if available) peeled and cut into small bits
6-8 large leaves of fresh organic basil finely chopped
2 teaspoons organic honey

After cleaning, peeling, and chopping all fruits, gently toss all ingredients together in a serving bowl so that the honey evenly coats the fruit, and the basil is nicely distributed.

Enjoy!

Greenling - Organic Food Delivery

I have a new love in my life. I recently signed up for a grocery delivery service —Greenling.com. They bill themselves as “a home delivery service of local and organic food”. While it is not an exclusive arrangement, I am pleased to say I have made a firm commitment to this new grocer in my life. What follows is our story, thus far.

I have been increasingly dissatisfied and desired something new in my grocery life. Because I eat almost exclusively sustainable, organic, and/or local foods I shop at the local high-end natural food market. When I lived in Minneapolis that meant Whole Foods. Now that I’m in Austin, TX it means Central Market. Ironic I suppose since Whole Foods is an Austin based company, but Central Market is closer to home. I like Central Market. It has nice selection, and the people are friendly. But it’s also expensive and huge, and they make my meat buying difficult. I sought change.

I had fantasies of saving money on my monthly grocery bill. Let’s be honest shopping at a high-end natural food mega-mart isn’t cheap. I admit that some items on Greenling are also expensive, and perhaps slightly more expensive. However, I theorized that by limiting my choices to those available at Greenling, and staying away from the store I could avoid the temptation, which is sometimes strong, to buy the impulse items — the plethora goodies that aren’t on the list, but look delicious nonetheless. I could avoid the prepared foods as well, which while convenient are both very expensive and not all that good for a person.

My more-than-once-weekly trips to the giant grocery store take a ton of time, time that I covet, and never seem to have enough of. In the past I didn’t think about it much, I would just begrudgingly cruise every aisle of the market. Then I started paying attention to just how much time it was really taking me to shop, and was stunned to discover I was spending on average 3-5 hours grocery shopping every week. That’s practically a part-time job. And it wasn’t a fun part-time job. These grocery errands were repetitive and getting rather dull — trip after trip of the same old staples, aisle after aisle of the same old same old. A change of scenery was what I needed and I was hopeful that Greenling could be just such a change. I also believed that by leaving my grocery runs behind I would be reducing my carbon footprint. Although I admit I have not done the necessary research to determine by exactly how much, though I assume that every bit helps.

Finally, I sought new kind of meat — cleaner, greener meat. While I abstain from eating meat, and have for 20 plus years, I cook meat, and I serve meat to my loved ones. I was seeking a source of local, organic, and most importantly pastured animal products. Not just “grass-fed”. All animals are “grass-fed” until sent to the feedlot. Not just “free-range” which requires only that the hens have access to the outdoors, but does nothing to enforce how much time they spend there. (I’ve always pictured something like a doggie door on the side of the hen house and the hens having no real idea of how to use it.) No I wanted animal products that were truly pastured and local. Animals that were being humanely raised and eating the diets they had evolved to eat.

These were the things my current market left me wanting. I had to face facts, Central Market just couldn’t satisfy me, just couldn’t be everything I wanted it to be.

Then I met Greenling. We met on the Internet, and at first glance it seemed to be just the thing I was looking for. I flirted with the idea of making a change for several months before I made my move. I was reticent. I approached with caution. I admit I feared that something would be missing from my grocery life; there was something sensual about the time I spent at Central Market. For all it’s faults shopping at Central Market was a sensory experience. There seemed to be something very impersonal and detached about shopping on-line. Would I miss the opportunity to weigh pomegranates in my hand, as if able to tell which will taste best by its heft in my hand? Would I miss pinching the grapes? Would I yearn to smell each hunk of plastic wrapped cheese, deciding which to buy based on a stinky-ness scale I had invented for my self and developed to a finely tuned sixth sense? If you can’t smell the cheese through the plastic, it won’t taste good.

And besides I don’t do well with change, neurotically clinging to the familiar.

But alas, I was smitten. Greenling had caught my eye. I was attracted by the time saving convenience, and the hope of saving a few pennies, and the meat. The thrill seeker in me was also attracted to the element of surprise. Greenling offered a certain sense of mystery and the unknown that I found thrilling and knew could be satisfying. I would replace the thrill of smelling cheese with the thrill of mystery and intrigue.

Ultimately I decided it would be worth it, I was ready to make my move. I created an account; I set my log in and my password, and filled my first virtual basket. I even included the “Surprise Me” item, which promised to be “…super fresh…and impressive”. I set the delivery date.

Then came the anticipation, a close second to mystery and intrigue on the thrilling scale in my world. I found myself looking forward to my delivery, like I look forward to the mail everyday. I was like a schoolgirl, waiting for the prom. I anxiously, and with enthusiasm, waited for the goods to arrive.

And when they did I could not have been more pleased. There on my doorstep, left by the friendly delivery guy, were my Greenling Tubs. And what they held within was beautiful. Inside my tubs was a bounty of organic, and local foodstuffs that I could feel good about spending money on, and even better about eating. It was more than I had hoped for.

The cheese arrived wrapped in paper instead of plastic. It was a sharp, fragrant, and crumbly cheddar made from the raw milk of pastured cows on a local farm by artisan cheese makers. It swept me off my feet.

The local, and organic mushrooms were packed in a paper bag, which is how it should be, allowing the fungi to breath keeps them fresher longer. As a bonus the bag was printed with recipes, a little quaint yes, but I appreciated the gesture. I found it charming.

The eggs were also a real treat. Some were tiny, and some were huge, and they ranged in color from a deep terra cotta to a light latte and just a few were the soft bluish green of turquoise. I haven’t seen eggs like these since I visited my Auntie’s farm as a kid.

I’d have my sensory experience after all.

I also had the smallest grocery bill I have had in some time. And I didn’t even have to leave the house.

I knew right off this wasn’t just any grocer. This was special. I wanted to make it a steady thing, and signed up for delivery dates on a weekly basis. I’m still friendly with my other market, and I’ll still visit for my frozen fruit, and my bulk dry goods. After all, I still need the stability of a well-stocked pantry. But I have traded the temptation of prepared foods for something more wholesome. I now have full access to cleaner, happier meat. I have left behind the daunting hours of cruising aisle after aisle for something fresh and new. I look forward to a long, loving relationship with my new local and organic grocery delivery service.