Saturday, September 12, 2015

a new fruit

Most Saturday mornings I walk three blocks and find myself at the 82nd Street Farmer's Market.

Vendors from NJ and upstate NY bring their fresh produce, baked goods, meats, fish and poultry to this little urban corner and set up shop. It is always busy, and the lines are always long.

I now pretty much buy from the same two farms. It's summer, and for the past few weeks I've bought corn on the cob, heirloom tomatoes, and fruit. Today, I alter my purchase ever so slightly and get a box of baby heirlooms and very small purple grapes that I've not seen before. "These are only out for a week," the farmer tells me.



I come home and  put these in two bowls on the counter, near each other. Someone — who will remain nameless (as he doesn't want his name appearing in my blog anymore) — sees them.

He is still half asleep, but regardless; he only half pays attention when I speak, even when he's wide awake. "Hey, I just bought these little grapes," I say.

With sleepy eyes, he looks at the two bowls and says (seriously), "They're nice. I've never seen yellow and orange grapes before. They look good."


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