Farmers Market Heaven

What a beautiful experience a Californian farmers market is. Freshly pastured butter and broncha. The most delicious-looking, brightest-red strawberries, luscious pink raspberries, golden gooseberries and dark, flavor-smacking blueberries. Peaches, apricots, plums and nectarines, a tub for $12. A juice explosion.

Oranges are in season, grab a bag. Wildflower honey, 12 grain freshest bread. All the herbs you could want, all green and leafy and ready to add some oomph. Throw in any summer squash you could want as well (try round?). Vine ripened, sweet tasting heirlooms. And freshly made mushroom ravioli from a warm Italian fella, grazie.

Friendly conversations (Happy Fourth!). Spanish speaking purveyors, generous vendors (a tip = a complimentary nectarine). Passionate discussions about how to serve cheese: cube it for a snack, grate it on pasta (a must) or enjoy it with your mid-morning coffee. Explanations of local delicacies, like sea beans (try it as a salt substitute, not too much though). How nice is the weather? Pick your own tomatoes.

And then hop on the scooter home, sing out loud and write this post.