Phase Two: Recall Basic Math and Color-Coordinate Tomatoes

I woke from a tumultuous sleep at 6:58 AM or so. This was my fear. One long sentence was nebulously running through my head as soon as the sun came up: "what-do-I-feed-the-vegetarians-when-should-I-start-baking-the-pie-should-I-use-fake-ham-in-a-separate-green-beans-dish-for-them-what-if-I-forget-to-pull-the-mint-julepy-bourbon-out-of-the-fridge-should-I-buy-a-small-table-for-the-unused-TV-that's-been-on-the-floor-for-two-months..." After the alarm sounded at 7 and my attempt at snoozing was laughable, I arose, threw on a t-shirt, lamented the dark circles under my eyes, and began my pilgrimage to the Alexandria Farmer's Market.

This place is great. I forgot this, because usually I'm sleeping for the duration of it, am out of town, or would rather eat cereal and balance my checkbook between 8 am and 11 am. But I went, progressive Whole Foods reusable bag in tow and with an ominous storm cloud at my back. I did an exploratory tour then began making my purchases. I even took cash and budgeted in my head (how novel). I was a bit disappointed though, because a woman sells Virginia ham steaks and bacon there, so I regret buying the bologna-looking kind at Giant, but I did well otherwise:


I bought these really sweet peaches. It was a big risk because they were a concerningly soft, but they were the most distinctive I tasted. The white isn't mold, a sign assured me; it's white clay. I'm not sure if this is a Buddhist sect thing were the peaches have to drop from the trees so nature isn't defiled and they are magically cushioned in white clay, but I bought them. And, I saved a dollar when the farmer overcharged me a dollar and I did the math in my head. He insisted he was right for two seconds while I furrowed my brow and wondered if I could even spell the word Calculus anymore. But, we decided I was right.

I also bought blackberries, red tomatoes, a melon, a cucumber, and then the real stars of the show, my $3 heirloom tomato, Italian currants (the little yellow/green tomatoes), and little orange tomatoes. I'm going to make a Greek-style horiatiki salad so the table has a bit of color, instead of the overwhelmingly neutral brown-oranges of Southern Comfort, fried chicken, pecan pie, and cheese grits.

After a nap, I think I'll be ready to start cooking.