
"Where are these peaches from?"
"South Haven, Michigan."
"No, not where. When?"
"They were picked yesterday."
"So they're from this year?"
"This year?"
"Yeah, they're not from last year?"
"No . . . these peaches are from this year."
"OK, good."
Some people are hard to figure out, but easy to please.
He bought some peaches.
* * *
"Were these raspberries picked this morning?"
"Are you kidding me? No, we did not pick raspberries in the dark this morning before we came to the market."
* * *
Peter: "She was a 'Dan Special.' "
Me: "Hmm?"
Peter: "Wasn't that irritible bowel lady?"
Me: "No."
Peter: "Well, she still seemed like your type of customer."
Me: "Thanks, Peter."
* * *
We were packing up when a woman with a familiar face came up to me.
"We chatted the other day about freezing blueberries."
Uh oh.
"Well, I just wanted to let you know, it worked out exactly like you said it would."
Score! "Oh, I'm so glad to hear that. Thanks for letting me know."
"Yeah, well, a lot of people around here dispense a lot of advice. But yours actually worked."
"Well, thanks for saying that. I appreciate it."
There was that. Plus, only one person walked away in a huff today.
So it was a good day.
* * *
Don't trust any fruit recipe that doesn't include a little bit of salt.
* * *
Bring re-sealable containers — old take-out containers, Rubbermaid containers, whatever — to the market and use those to carry your berries home. More and more people are doing this. Even more should.
* * *
I couldn't choose between a blueberry or peach crumble, plus I had some red and black raspberries on hand. So I made a mixed-fruit crumble.
It came out of the oven looking like hell. But it tasted like heaven.
* * *
Jesus, Mary and Joseph, it has started again. The poking of the peaches.
And if you're on your cell phone? And you're just mindlessly poking the peaches while you tell someone that you're totally at the farmers market and they have, like, peaches?
I am tempted to poke you until you stop.