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Semi-Triumphant Return
Oct 10th, 2005

Alright, I'm back to put Scott out of his misery. I'm going to have to ease back into this posting thing, habits are hard to pick back up once you drop them for a while.

You all should know by now that I have an inordinate love of farmers markets and fruit stands, any place really where you can gaze at, fondle, and perhaps acquire fresh fruits and vegetables. Considering I grew up with a u-pick strawberry patch in operation right outside my front door and a father who would pull an immediate full speed u-turn at the sight of a roadside berry stand, it's not too hard to see where my fondness came from. But I also like efficiency and not dragging grumpy boys down aisles of parsnips and bok choy, so since we started getting our weekly CSA delivery, I have been sadly neglecting the Seattle Farmer's Markets. But a couple weekends ago we were in the University District getting Jim a sandwich at The Best Sub Sandwich Shop in the World (tm. Jim) and I noticed that the Saturday Farmer's Market was open for business. And it was fall. Which meant apples.

I love apples. I eat them all year long, they're my staple fruit. But organic apples freshly harvested from a local orchard are nirvana. I can eat myself sick on them in a matter of hours, well minutes really. I love the dusty, powdery surface of an apple that hasn't been waxed for its trip to the supermarket shelf. You can hold an orchard apple up to your nose and breathe in, and it smells like sun and leaves and autumn. And the varieties - just listen to the kinds of apples available at Seattle farmer's markets this week: Pink Pearl, Macoun, Empire, Liberty, Bramley's Seedling, Sweet 16, Smokehouse, Ambrosia, Morren's Johnagored, Golden Delicious, Cox Orange Pippin, Prairie spy, Macintosh, Jonagold, Tsugaro, Elstar, Ginger Golds, Red Gravensteins, Galas, and Honey Crisp. I want one of each. Strike that I want a bag of each and I want to eat them up until I can't stand to look at another apple and then I want to make pie. Or crisp. Or cobbler. Or apple butter.

But sadly our bag of apples from that Saturday is long gone. Someone (ahem) seems to have made rather a pig of herself and scarfed them all up. And today sitting at my desk I got this unsettling feeling that if I didn't go buy some more fresh apples RIGHT NOW I was going to miss out on them until next year. But I have to wait, the next market day near me isn't until Thursday. You'd better believe I'll be there.


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© 2006, Kimberly Cooperrider | kymmco@excite.com