Tuesday mornings involve a mad dash to the farmer's market before my classes. Except, that you can't really "mad dash" a farmer's market. It is just not possible. There are too many treasures in each stall to find and discover. The biggest find of the Tuesday morning Crescent City Farmer's Market are the eggs. There is only one lady that brings eggs. And there are only 7 dozen eggs each Tuesday. Which is a lot of eggs for one person, but not a lot of eggs for everyone that wants them. Basically, the first 7 people get a dozen eggs. I have been previously unsuccessful in my quest for the eggs. Not this week though. This week, I loitered around the egg lady sufficiently to convince her of my dedication to the egg cause and she SET A DOZEN ASIDE FOR ME! Now I feel like a true farmer's market regular. I went, I saw, and I got those eggs! I also was able to procure farm fresh salted butter. To best summarize the butter that comes from the farmer's market I must steal an advertising phrase from my favorite show ever: Oh My Freakin' Goodness. This butter is truly amazing. The stall that sells the butter also sells fresh milk and cream. Now, we in the 7221 apartment are not big milk drinkers (in fact, we only buy milk when we need it for baking purposes...) but man-oh-man, is that farm fresh milk tempting.
Pretty much everything at the farmer's market is tempting. I abhor the idea of seafood, particularly the kind with legs, but I swear, when I'm walking around the farmer's market, I'm almost tempted. Instead of succumbing to the crawl-ly, oceanic creatures that smell funny, I chose to go with the fresh juices. Orange-Pineapple and Papaya. Soooooo delish.
After acquiring my little gems, I quickly returned home in an effort to get the little lovelies into the fridge and myself to class on time. This quest was successfully completed due to my excellent sweet-talking skills which convinced the men doing work on the road in front of the apartment to allow me to drive down the "Closed" Willow St to park and run to class. The men are very nice-they seem to be working on our street every day, and yet we still have the largest crater ever in the middle of it (which they seem completely unconcerned with!), and when I walk past them 8947547856 times a day on my way to and from campus I always wave and say hello. I think this helped my sweet talking cause. The best surprise of the morning was not my sweet-talking success, rather it happened back in the apartment when I was putting my beauties away. I had to sneak a peak at my big prize-the eggs. I popped open the container and SURPRISE! My little gems are brown eggs. I'm a bit obsessed with brown eggs. They are just so pretty. The color variations, the marking variations, the knowledge that the browner the eggs, the paler the chicken who produced it (which is pretty surprising if you think about the pigmentation genes that implies), and mostly, they just seem so much more fresh and wholesome compared to the generic white eggs from the grocery store. Anyways, my beauties are brown and I am so super pleased :)
