So, yesterday was the first day of the farmer's market. Since our farmer farms up in Logan, the first week is always on the one hand thin, and on the other hand cool because often there are garlic scapes, which I and others have already rhapsodized about, so I'll just spare you, except to say that I have made a bunch of garlic scape pesto (you can read a perfectly lovely recipe for it here), I roasted a head of broccoli with some garlic scapes, and I used some of the garlic scape pesto to flavor the bechamel sauce for the baked penne and cheese I made. You would not want to be too close to me right now.
Other pleasurable happenings: we ran into some friends (the historian has known them since before we knew each other) who'd been married forever, who endured a rather lengthy and sometimes bitter separation, and now have decided to reconcile and looked suspiciously happy about it. We saw some friends from work and their adorable baby. We bought bread and a croissant (for me) from the excellent Crumb Bros. bakery people. We bought some arugula and some broccoli raab greens from Chad the vegetable impresario.
I am a little worried, because my herb people weren't there, and neither was the small-scale farmer the historian and I call Tremonton girl. I have already seen some of my favorite farmer vendors fall by the wayside, and I am not having any more of it. My herb people are important to me.
But on the plus side, there were the beautiful, tiny, super-fragrant and super-sweet strawberries from Weeks Berries of Paradise. Also, little new potatoes that are the color and size of a small Super Ball. And peas. So I am just going to cook those potatoes and peas right up, together, and maybe chop a little mint to go with them, and cross my fingers that Tremonton Girl and the herb people show up next week, or the week after.