This Local Family has reached that point in life where Mom and Dad stew Saturday morning as one kid and then the other gradually come to being. Over coffee and ‘net-noodling I watched the snow, snow so heavy like what you see on one of those TV sitcom versions of a Christmas Carol gone goofy. I thought the best thing to do would be to drink gobs of hot chocolate in between re-shoveling the snow. But we had commitments.
I did say to Robin when we picked up from Farmer Vicki that Tuesday, “see you on Saturday.” I did say to Chef Levitt later in the week, “I’ll see what’s at the market.” I told my wife I’d use either the Borders coupon we had or my Barnes & Noble gift card for a cook book. I told the family we could have lunch on Argyle. We were committed.
They could deal with getting out. Going to the market. Could they deal with me saying, at least 16 times that morning, what kind of idiot would go out in weather like this. But we were committed.
And it turns out that we were not the only ones who felt, well maybe not committed, but willing to brave-blizzard. We ran into fellow foodie KennyZ and his less porcine loving wife; our favorite local food writer and my former editor at the Ctrib, and our friend Holly of the Family Farmed Expo media table. They and others bought out all of Scotch Hill Organic‘s Hercules carrots that we love and all of his spinach that we wanted to love if he had any to sell us. We got the very last of Genesis Grower lettuce that Robin had.
Truth be told, it was that lettuce, a bag of hot peppers, a container of Sugar River yogurt, a handful of mint from a much larger stash of mint, and a French nun baked baguette. Not much for the schlep. Worse, something we thought we purchased as well, some buckwheat flour, we seemed to have lost. But we were committed.
(Oh, but lunch at Tank Noodle was quite good.)