From 125th Street, the 4 train took to me to Union Square in about twelve minutes. I needed, really needed, a tomato fix. Those things in the supermarkets are not tomatoes.
When I saw the beans I wanted a bean fix, too, but I stayed strong (why?).
The market was in tomato flood.
I did collect a box of those small dark plums, below.
And these...
The city honey bees had found them.
And we ate these funny-beautiful tomatoes for supper, with basil and olive oil and garlic, and slices of toasted bread.
Because of the sunflowers, I just looked at the zinnias.
But I did bring home some duck breasts and very beautiful scallops and a tiny piece of tuna. I 'cooked' the sliced tuna and the whole scallops for an hour in lime juice with shredded shiso leaves, and we ate them with thin pieces of crisped French bread on a terrace where August had pulled itself together at last and delivered a blast of true summer heat, even at 8pm.
Why no beans?
ReplyDeleteJust a guess but perhaps something offered as "handpicked" might actually not be as advertised, and maybe does not originate from the entity, as presented.
But then again, professional experience pulls me in that direction. And I might be all wet.
I'm sure Gov. Christie has an opinion.
A tomato flood. Lovely way to go.
ReplyDeleteI love fresh tomatoes! I won't even eat the ones from the supermarket.
ReplyDeleteEk gaan die somermarkte in die Noordelike halfrond baie mis as dit eers winter is. Ek begin amper hiperventileer van opwinding elke keer wat ons een besoek.
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