April Farmers Market

April Market bring…swirling snow

I am impatient; I want the spring greens, the apple blossoms and all that goes with them. Now. Any rational person will tell you, nature rules; it will arrive when it’s time. So enjoy. Now.
I like to taste the Saturday market, simply without a lot of fuss, a market munch, so to speak.

Fig and Anise Bruschetta with goat cheese and honey

Slice a Breadfarm Fig and Anise roll in half, lightly toast under a broiler and slather with Gothberg Farm goat cheese and drizzle with raspberry honey.

Perfect!

I Love Computers

Hello everyone,
I am in recovery mode on my computer, having lost it all. So, if you want to reach me, please email.
If you want to continue to receive the newsletter, please send me your address. I will be back soon!
Ciao, Mary Ellen

Home Again

Made it home in time for the seasonal opening of the market, come rain or shine, the Farmers market always reassures me that Spring is on the way.
Nettles were available from some farmers. Listed as a power food, stinging nettles are high on the list as a Spring tonic.
If you have ever touched a nettle you know how badly they hurt, so how did people get to the point of eating them. How did they discover dipping them in boiling water took the sting out?
Wear gloves and eat on!

Adam and Eve on a raft

Searching for a Diner

Where is the All American diner? The place where Flo the waitress calls me darlin’, and serves breakfast all day. Someplace where I can eat something really good - that’s really bad for me? That diner in Double Indemnity?
Well, couldn’t find one.
Some of the “travel plazas” (truck stops) have great names:
Gear Grinder Diner
The Hungry Red Neck
Fork in the Road
But these menus only had poorly cooked chicken breasts and bad spinach salad.
Took a ride with a ex NY cabbie – “Go to Rosie’s - good food, great looking waitresses, hell they even insult ya…what more could you want.”
But I am ready, I have been practising the lingo:
Order up: “burn it, take it through the garden and pin a rose on it”

My Vacation in Rawlins

Rawlins Wyoming is a town of 6000 people that’s located 100 miles away from the next nowhere town. We are here on the first day of spring; they say they will have snow for the month and a half. Wherever we look there frozen mud or slushy mud.
Oh and the wind – whew!
As we leave town, we see a huge spray of some mysterious substance coming out of the car. The oil pressure gauge drops to zero.
We pull over to the side of the off ramp and call AAA. We are transferred to various people, finally they call back to say they have located a tow truck and they have woken the driver up and he will be here within the hour. As we sat on the side of the road the huge trucks swoop by and rock the car.
As the clouds cover the sun, Terry starts contemplating hypothermia, which he is convinced he is losing his sight. We then discuss whether someone will place a small marker on the road when they find us after we perish. Will they put fake flowers on the road marker? No!
I am wondering what kind food they serve at funerals in Rawlins.
We wonder if anyone will come to Rawlins for the funeral.
The heat is off and the snow is now blowing sideways. I think I have a very shallow glimpse about the struggles of those pioneers.

Screaming – you call this is food?

I have left my culinary cocoon, where I converse with like minded friends and family about the value of fresh local food. I know you are all patient with me while I go on and on about local, seasonal, and local seasonal.
Well for the 1500 miles of travel, with nights at various hotel/motels, I am shocked to see what America has decided is food.
At every motel through Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Wyoming and Colorado claim to serve a hot continental breakfast.
From Pendelton Oregon to downtown Denver Colarado - they serve EXACTLY the same stuff! I can’t say the word food here.
Every place has the the same lay out and machinery for a self serve buffet of powdered eggs, frozen waffles, multi colored fruit loops, individual packages of peanut butter, jam, maple syrup, butter [not butter but whipped spread], and cream cheese. Most have the corporate logo on the machinery.
So that is what is in all those WincoFood trucks going down the highway.

Across the Great Divide

m

Terry and I we have been following the Oregon Trail for hundreds of miles through 3 states so far and my respects go to the hardy souls who crossed this country so many years ago. The wind is constant and there are snow drifts as far as the eye can see.
I have often wonder what other era that I would like to live in.
Being a rugged pioneer is not one of them.
As I recline in a heated car seat, listening to music and crossing the Continental divide at 7000 feet, I picture those families in buck boards and Prairie schooners and can’t fathom the hardship.
It gives me pause to wonder what were they running from or what were they seeking?