On the 11th it will be four years since A. and my wedding, the aesthetics of which were inspired by the Portland farmer's market at PSU-- a balmy August evening, flowers in milk bottles and canning jars, picnic tables covered in linen cloths, my bridal bouquet bursting with dahlias, cosmos and lavender tied with a simple satin ribbon, salmon, corn, tomatoes, cheese and berries (actually, the cake woman forgot the berries, but there were supposed to be lots and lots of berries).
Over the past four years, my love of, and connection to, Portland farmer's markets has grown and deepened. These days, Ezra and I go to at least 2 farmer's markets each week. I buy cucumbers, lettuce, tomatoes and corn. Ezra, acting as if the whole market is a giant platter, plucks a strawberry out of basket at one stand (I'll buy that!) and a yellow cherry tomato out a basket at another and walks around eating blueberries out of a basket that totters precariously in his hands. He dances in front of musicians and I give him a dollar to put in their guitar case. We smile at other mamas and babies. We pet the dogs.
At home, we inspect our little vegetable garden daily, looking for more tomatoes, new zucchini, blueberries and heirloom green beans whose seeds we planted together. We admire the pink dahlias and cosmos growing on the edges. I am inspired to cook colorful dinners inspired by the flavors, smells and colors of our garden and the markets - a tomato, zucchini and cheese tart, marinated cucumbers with dill, tomatoes with basil and mozzarella. I've been canning, too - peaches and blackberry sauce.
On Sundays, we go as a family to the Hillsdale market where we sit on the curb and eat lamb dogs wrapped in dough and freshly baked bagels with dill cream cheese.
I am loving sharing my love for the farmer's markets with Ezra, the fruit of my labor, who (I have no doubt) was there, in some form, on that sweet August night four years ago.
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