Sep 21, 2013
At the Carrboro Farmers Market this morning, Oliver and I purchased our customary cinnamon rolls and ate them on the bench next to the playground. Walking along the path from stall to stall, we ran into Rose Hoban and chatted about the copperhead snake she axed in half, then a few steps later we met a neighbor holding a bunch of lemongrass leaves. I followed his lead, found the farmer, and paid $3 for a bunch of my own.
Back home, I’ve chopped the leaves and steeped them in boiling water. (The stalks I’ve put aside for making Thai red curry paste.) The lemongrass water is fragrant and tasty, and reminds me of days on Paama when I’d use the machete to cut a few leaves from our garden out back, then boil water on te smokeless stove to make the hot but refreshing drink.
Anton Zuiker ☄
© 2000 Zuiker Chronicles Publishing, LLC