Sweetness

Having lived in Carrboro for three years, I’m partial to the wonderful Carrboro Farmers Market, and Anna loves to accompany me to the market on Saturday mornings; she and I buy cinnamon rolls and then retreat to the shaded blue bench near the playground.

Yesterday, I decided I needed to visit the farmers market of my new home town. The Durham Farmers Market is smaller, but just as bountiful, with some of the same farms selling their produce – I was able to buy my favorite tomatoes, from Sunny Slope Greenhouses, and just as I do when I return from the Carrboro market, I immediately eat a tomato slice by slice, each sprinkled liberally with kosher salt.

My mother will read this and gasp, and I hope she’ll leave a comment to tell you how I so hated tomatoes as a child. Strawberries, too.

At the Durham market yesterday, Anna helped me buy a lot of strawberries, and she was eating the juicy red berries even before I’d paid the vendors. Red juice dripped from Malia’s face, Erin’s face, my face all day at 5506 Loyal. My, how sweet they are.

This morning I had enough strawberries left to make two batches of strawberry jam, delicious, sugary, sweet jam for toast. My mom will visit next week, and there’ll be tomatoes and strawberry jam on the menu.




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Written by Anton Zuiker since July 2000
Why mistersugar? Why a pig?