There’s some great granola and pasta available at the Farmers Market. We’ve had basil tagliatelle, ricotta gnocchi, and tomato fettucine. Last week we had a divine maple granola. So this morning, we trotted off to the market in the happy expectation of more of the same. And you know what? We didn’t get any of it. The “granola guy” had ginger granola and peanut butter granola; the ladies were selling spinach fettucine and lemon chive pasta.
But this turns out, strangely, to be to our advantage. I think the constant availability of the same products at the grocery store, week in and week out, is a trap. (Thank you, Admiral Ackbar) We never try funky Dragon Tongue beans because we can always get plain green beans. If we’re out of cereal, Special K and Cheerios are always there on the shelf, comfortably familiar. The same kinds of tea, cheese, apples, sausage, and lettuce are always waiting for us.
To be fair, our local supermarkets are pretty good. Rochester is home to the Wegmans chain of stores–if you don’t have them in your area, I’m so sorry. (When someone in my family makes a shopping list, it often says “Wegmans” at the top, instead of “Groceries.”) And my little town market is clean, friendly, convenient, and well-stocked. But it’s so easy to buy the same old things at the store, because they always have the same old things. I know, we could buy Hubbard squash, or yellow pear tomatoes, or any of thousand other things, at the store. But somehow, we never do.
At the Farmers Market, though, they weren’t selling plain white potatoes today. So my younger daughter bought some huge Yukon golds for mashed potatoes. They aren’t selling little plastic bags of baby-cut carrots, so my older daughter picked up a gorgeous bunch of organic beauties. We snuck handfuls of peanut butter granola in the car, and planned a marvelous meal of spinach fettucine.
Next week, it’ll all be different. That’s a good thing.