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DaZeD philosopher chef (98.230.82.178) on 6/17/2017 - 9:00 a.m. says: ( 41 views , 7 likes , 1 m0nKey )

"Its The MOST Wonderful Time....Of The Year"

When we were young of course that was Christmas or last week of the school year.  Now, for me, its when you start seeing produce stands and farmers markets springing up around the periphery of towns selling bushels of shelled and unshelled white acres, purple hulls, baby green limas, hand picked okra, fresh dug new potatoes, fresh ears of corn unhusked and maybe the icing on the top...watermelon.  You walk into the room or produce stand and your eyes & nose are filled with all these odors and colors...and your body is silently, but gleefully rejoicing.  A grown-ups version of Christmas morning. When I was young, this was a bitter/sweet time because I knew the food was going to be outstanding, but I'd have to run the race to the finish line to reap such culinary wonder.  The race was a cruel act consisting of going to the "you pick" farm and picking rows of vines, picking ripened tomatoes, pulling ears of corn off the stalks and cutting okra til your fingers bled. You didn't feel the pain of your fingers because you were roasting in the mid-day sun and enduring countless fire-ant bites along each row.   No time to rest though...we'd go back home and go out on the back porch and shell peas and butterbeans with what little fingers we had left over from picking.  My mom's home remedy for healing those afflictions was to have us husk and silk a few bushels of corn, then proceed to grating the pulp off the ears.  The horror...right? When I finaly started providing for myself, I made it a point to buy all the fresh peas and beans "already shelled".  I thought that was the coolest technological advancement that mankind had discovered at the time.  But something just didn't feel quite right for some reason.  Now, that I'm creeping up on 60 years of age, I, once again, find myself back out on the back porch shelling, husking, cutting produce again and this time around I find myself waxing nostalgic with none or only a few of the painful memories of my youth...only the memories of family spending QT together.   I'm still waiting on that 1st "epic tomato sandwich" of this year's crop.  I have the loaf of whitebread on the kitchen counter and at least two jars of Mayo in the pantry for when that moment comes.  Waiting...like an 8 year old waiting for first daylight on christmas morning!

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