Coconut Library

Farmer's Market Musings...

 

...my Farmer's Market loot...

 

I used to have dates with a friend on Wednesdays to go to the Farmer's Market near my old apartment. I loved it, and always bought flowers from their amazing flower stand. I never bought food. 

I've also enjoyed the famous Farmer's Market on Sundays on Main Street in Santa Monica several times. But it has always been as a sunny day outing for some lunch and hang out time with friends. Again, never used it as a grocery store. 

So when I moved to the house I live in now, I noticed there was a Farmer's Market that ran once a week about ten blocks away. I decided I would go and check it out. That was three years ago. 

A few weeks back, while shopping for Mother's Day gifts, I came  across Anna Getty's cookbook Easy Green Organic. I bought it {because how can you be in a bookshop and not buy a book?}, and have been flipping through it ever since. It has inspired me to finally get over to the market. Well, that and the experience I had yesterday...

Feeling the pressure of the upcoming wedding/bathing suit season upon me, I decided to do a little diet. Please note, I am not a diet girl; never have been. Partly because I just love food, and partly because I've got OK genes in this department. But I'm thirty now, and the extra pounds that accumulate over the winter don't slide off by adding some veggies and a few walks a week anymore. So, I copied a friend and went on this protein shake, liquid type of diet. And, because I wasn't loosing any weight after a week {I actually gained, thank you very much}, I decided that I would kick my butt into gear by going for a run yesterday. After weeks of doing nothing. At 11:00AM on a hot, sunny Los Angeles day. So, I went, and I almost didn't make it home. Oh, mind you, the first 20 minutes were a breeze, but then it started getting hotter and as I turned to head home {and sped up from my speed walking stretch into my running one again} I noticed that I was now going uphill. But I was going to make myself do this, damn it. I kept envisioning myself as the svelte goddess I would be if I kept this up. Then I got to the top of the hill and almost threw up.

By the time I got back home, after taking an extended break on the grass under a large tree for some shade and after experiencing some concerning stomach cramps, I decided that I am not a protein shake or liquid diet kind of girl with hard core exercising on top. I like food. Real food. The kind that is not always packaged or containing the words artificial on the label. And I'm more of a yoga/speed walking rather than a boot camp type. So, I looked at Getty's cookbook again and vowed to go to the Farmer's Market {and sign up for a yoga class}...

And this morning I did. And I'm in love. I had to restrain myself from bringing home every bright red tomato at the stand where I bought them, I reminded myself that three containers of berries was enough. I filled my bags with fresh cucumbers, fragrant cilantro, red onions with the stems still on and the dirt still clinging, soft fresh-baked bagels, homemade cream cheese, and farm fresh eggs. There was so much more I wanted to try, but I told myself that I'd be back. And as I was leaving I stopped at the coffee cart. As I was putting my sugar into my drink a girl came up beside me to work on hers. "This is the best coffee, I'm so excited!"

Hmmm... okay. Someone's had a little too much caffeine today already. But I decided to be polite, "Really? I've never had it before. It's that good?"

"Oh yeah, I live across the street and on Saturdays I come back over and over again to have him fill me up, it's the best."

I smiled, wished her a happy weekend, and walked away. And then I tried my coffee. Yes, crazy coffee girl was right. SO GOOD. Maybe it was because I was already in a good mood from my Farmer's Market finds, or that the people there were just so darn nice the mood was seeping into my skin. Or maybe it was because I was really excited to have coffee in my tummy and real food in my bag. I don't know. But it was damn good coffee, and I'll be back for more next week.

I'll also be cooking from Easy Green Organic this week and telling you about that. If it's as good as I imagine it will be {take a gander at the recipes and see if you're not inspired to have a summer dinner party}, I'll add it to my shop.

Happy weekend to you!

Julie & Julia

There has been a bit of controversy about this book. Who would have ever guessed? Controversy over a memoir of a non-famous person. Only in America. (First person who gets that reference earns an invisible cookie). 

I think many people got the wrong impression when hearing about this book (I did too, until I actually picked it up). This book is not really about cooking. Well, it is, but not in the way that actual foodies (who are probably the majority of first readers out there) are going to appreciate. This book is about Julie Powell's life for that year... the cooking is just a big part of it. However, she doesn't explain her recipes much, you're not going to glean wonderful tips about how to prepare the food, etc. It's mostly about her journey... funnily enough, this is a lot of what I read people complaining about-- her self-centerdness. I laugh a little at that considering this is actually a memoir, not a cookbook. I imagine if one was opening the spine to have a look at some fantastic recipes they would be mightily disappointed. 

I wouldn't necessarily call her whiney, but she's definitely not gentle. I am assuming the movie is going to cutsie her up some to appeal more to the masses. I think she can be funny, raw at times, honest (to a point which might offend some people), and articulate. Would I want to go have a cup of cocoa with her? No. Do I feel bad for her husband because of the way she treats him sometimes? Yes. However, she wrote the book, therefore portraying herself in this light. So, I can only imagine she did it on purpose. My thoughts are that she's someone who, during the book, is at the end of her 20's, in a job she doesn't like, leading a life that she doesn't know where is going... so she decides to try something that will give her an ounce of control. 

I hope those who are giving the excessively negative reviews (not the people who just didn't like the book-- it's to be expected that not everybody would), because of not liking the direction, flavor, and purpose of the book, recognize that this book was not meant for them. And neither was the original blog. Perhaps they had no business reading it if they were not coming at it with the understanding of what it's like to define or redefine yourself, and definitely not judging it. Because, how can you judge something that you know nothing about? If you've never taken the kind of risk that Powell did (doing something that others deem entirely crazy in order to prove a point to the most important person in your life-- yourself) how can you possibly make any claims about the endeavor?

As you might have guessed, I feel like I can relate to Powell's journey. She started her blog at 29 (me too) when she was desperately unhappy with what she was doing with her life (I was as well), and thought a project might bring a little more meaning to her life... a purpose to come home to (mine was a purpose to start my day with). She wanted to find something fulfilling. The project wasn't meant to make her a gourmet cook, it was a way of shattering the mundane colored wall that surrounded her existence. It wasn't her ultimate passion, it was an avenue that led her to it. Just as I never dreamed of being a blogger, it's the avenue that has allowed me to do what I am enthusiastic about - reading - and reminded me what I had forgotten; that I love to write. I love the way it makes me feel and the way it empties my head of the way-too-many thoughts that bump around in there.

I can also relate to Julie's impulsiveness. I am the Mayor of Impulsive Town. At the beginning of the book, Julie references the 'Talking Down from the Ledge' conversations that she has with her mother. She says, 

"I have been having this conversation with my mother my entire life. There was the time when I was six years old and had to wear my favorite sundress for the St. Valentine's Day party at school--when my mother told me it was too cold, I stood goosepimply on the front porch in my Wonder Woman Underoos for two hours to prove her wrong." 

I get that. My mother gets that. Because for me it was the time (well, this or one of the other billion times in the past 29 and a half years) I had to go to drama camp on the east coast, even though I'd never been to the east coast and had been going to the same loving, outdoorsy, mountain camp in Colorado my whole life. I applied to said drama camp, got in, went back east, and hated it. A few days later (can't remember how many days exactly, but if you asked my mom, she'd know exactly), my mother was flying back from Europe -- jet-lagged, exhausted from her trip, and rescuing me because I was beyond miserable and about to run away with or without anyone's permission. However; now I know I don't like drama camp on the east coast. So, like Julie (and maybe others of you can relate), I am a person who needs to run - headfirst - into the brick wall to believe that it's made of brick. I will not just take your word for it. Though, when I (we) come back bleeding from the head, at least I know what a brick wall feels like. 

I tell you this to point out that even Julie realized that her Project had it's pointless parts, and we, her readers, wonder sometimes why we are reading about a woman who is tormenting herself to get through a cookbook in a year. But once you get to the end, you realize it's because you needed to see what was waiting on the other side; to see that hope comes in all forms and from all kinds of craziness. But the important part is that it comes. And that we can be big enough people to not judge (or impede) with anyone's quest for it. 
Four Coconuts

xo,
The Coconut Librarian