What's in Your Skillet?

My version of the perfect summer supper:  Swiss chard or spinach, sauteed lightly, tossed with a baked or boiled potato (cubed), and maybe accompanied by an egg or slivers of cheese, if I've worked up an appetite.  Today was another writing day, and though the morning was fresh and cool, the humidity settled in again this afternoon.  In weather like this, I'm glad I don't plant a veggie garden, because unlike seriously green-fingered folks, I would not be out there weeding and harvesting, with bug dope sweating into my eyes.  Lucky for me, I don't have to garden, to get fresh organic food.

One of the perks of this little town is our Farmer's Market, run by two of our local insurance agents, Lisa Fahey (my local agent), and Diane Skelley (who runs a competing agency).  This week, the vendor turn-out was small, with temperatures pushing toward 100 degrees, and humidity soaring, but I managed to get lots of great veggies, a pint of raspberries, and a jar of zucchini relish, too.

I salute the dedicated folks who not only grow my food, but also bring it to a park a few blocks from my home, every Wednesday, May through October, whatever the weather.

I grew up in a family that gardened on a subsistence scale, so I know the work that goes into it.  I may not care to do the labor myself, now that I have a choice, but I still prefer home grown food.  I also know that by buying local, I keep money in the community, supporting the neighbors who support me; I know minimal petroleum was used to get my food to market; and I participate in the exchange of energy that only happens when standing face-to-face with the actual person who planted and harvested my dinner by hand.  You can't buy that at the supermarket.


My supper tonight was grown and harvested by this local gardener.  Nice to know the face that goes with the thank you said at grace, don't you think?

 So many people say they don't have time to shop this way, but I think it mostly requires a shift in perspective.  You have to think of marketing this way as an activity that makes up part of a beautifully lived life.  If you have children, take them along.  Teach them to pick out the freshest things, to imagine what will go with what on the menu, to choose some flowers for the table, and to have conversations with the growers.  After which, of course, you let them cajole you into buying them an ice cream treat from the little cart at the curb (you might enjoy one, too), and if you are as lucky as Belle Plaine to have your farmer's market in a park, you let them play for awhile before going home to help you whip up a salad, and maybe grill some summer squash.  Of course, if you don't have children, don't pull the "it's not worth it for just me" malarkey.  Eat beautifully, live beautifully.

When I'm not writing decorating books, or procrastinating on writing decorating books, by hanging out at the local farmer's market, I paint some pretty wonderful walls.  Check out the portfolio of possibilities and all the info to hire me at theartofthehome.com.

Questions or comments?  Leave them below, or email me at dawnmariedelara@gmail.com .