Issaquah Farmer's Market: Beautiful Rejects
I spent my Saturday morning, resplendent with bright sunshine, at the farmer's market with my little family.
We perused gorgeous blooms whilst nibbling on fresh, sweet kettle corn.
We lazily strolled through the crafts and the compost stations with equal delight.
We sampled local grown apples and oohed and ahhed over the stained glass.
We perused gorgeous blooms whilst nibbling on fresh, sweet kettle corn.
We lazily strolled through the crafts and the compost stations with equal delight.
We sampled local grown apples and oohed and ahhed over the stained glass.
Then we came to the tomato stand.
Oh, such glorious heirloom varieties with names like Brandywine. Perhaps imperfect in form, but glorious in taste.
Then, off to the side sat the rejects. The imperfect of the imperfects.
PB's eyes went to a most imperfect, odd specimen. So proud of her.
Oh, such glorious heirloom varieties with names like Brandywine. Perhaps imperfect in form, but glorious in taste.
Then, off to the side sat the rejects. The imperfect of the imperfects.
PB's eyes went to a most imperfect, odd specimen. So proud of her.
Not at all what one thinks of beauty, is it? Bulging, huge, tumescent.
Some might say very different from the basket. Different from all the perceived beauty at the market.
Some ignore the taste potential for the form. Ignore the two plus pounds of juicy goodness for the horrible grotesque nature of it's outsides. It's inability to fit in.
We did not.
We had to have it. A bargain at half the price. It indeed made the most delicious of salads.
It's sad really how often such bargains are overlooked in the market and in life. Those who do not fit in, are culled in the supermarket and yes, even at the less outward discerning farmer's market, for those that reflect the right posturing. Some that might even enjoy the salad are pressured to choose only the tomatoes that meet the definition of their perfection. They ignore what they might have loved.
We did not.
We had to have it. A bargain at half the price. It indeed made the most delicious of salads.
It's sad really how often such bargains are overlooked in the market and in life. Those who do not fit in, are culled in the supermarket and yes, even at the less outward discerning farmer's market, for those that reflect the right posturing. Some that might even enjoy the salad are pressured to choose only the tomatoes that meet the definition of their perfection. They ignore what they might have loved.
Sad, isn't it?
7 comments:
OMG _ it's a work of art, not a monster!
I love the heirloom varieties. I planted a bunch last year though and they were terrible plants. I will try from a different nursery this year because when I do get the good plants it will be so worth it to have the bumpy, lumpy, misshapen, glorious tomatoes
Society in general rejects the odd and imperfect, makes them outcast. Long, long ago society culled them from the tribe. Now, with medical advances, no matter how odd, how imperfect, (or even how hideously horrible), these outcasts are part of society. Treated as pariah, still outcast, but contributing nonetheless, and sometimes in amazing ways!
you are SUCH a lovely writer
How could you NOT pass that up?
I can't wait for the taste of real tomatoes, like sunshine...sigh.
I love fresh 'maters! Hope the ones i I am growing come out just as lovely. I have 6 plants.
We're there nearly every Saturday. I'm the tall, handsome one.
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