I’ve been cooking since I was a little girl, when I first coveted the Easy Bake Oven featured in commercials on television. Ignoring my pleas, but wanting to motivate me, my mother rolled up my pajama sleeves, propped me on a stool, and introduced me to the kitchen stove.
At the farmers’ market in Callicoon, I had a short discourse with a vendor on the benefits of cooler weather on such crops as Brussels sprouts, cabbage and cauliflower. The lower temperatures bring out the sweetness, she told me.
Earlier today, I went outside and leaned on the wooden rail of the front porch and looked down at what had become of my garden. Some people find pulling and tugging at weeds cathartic. I am not one of those. The ground was so overgrown with grass and weeds that I could no longer make out the globe basil, sage, or tarragon plants.
Husband Stephen was excited when he presented me with the sales flyer from Pete’s Market in Narrowsburg, NY.
“Look,” he said. “It’s an Italian Festival.”