Stephen and I met Tejal and Glyn at the farmer's market in Mountain View yesterday. It's a nice market, big enough for variety, but not so big that I become overstimulated and unable to make reasonable choices. Aside from the guy with an accordian and a box that made his voice echo playing polka covers of popular songs (including Santana's "Oye Como Va"), we had a lovely time. My fridge is so full of fruits and vegetables, I had a hard time finding room for Diet Cokes, truly a horror in my caffeine addicted household.
That evening, we had a sampler of many of the delicious things we bought. Rather notably, we managed to squeeze three different types of not-so-healthy animal fat, not to mention considerable olive oil, into what seemed like a light, summer-y meal.
We had pâté de campagne, an excellent source of delicious pork fat, butter on our radishes, goat cheddar with chipotle, and a mixture of goat crema and sage honey on our ranier cherries and white peaches for dessert. We particularly enjoyed the last course. Tejal was right; the goat crema was just fantastic. Maybe not perfectly healthy, but wonderful nonetheless.
I just had a wonderful memory reading this! You and Abram, in his room, dancing to Oye Como Va. Remember? You both had your rear ends facing me and your booties swayed in perfect time to the music. It was so funny! What a great memory.
Geez, Mom, way to ruin my coolness and credibility. I would never, never shake my behind rythmically to funky latin rock music. Noooooo way. That doesn't sound like me at all. (hehehe)