Max and I arrived at the Hollywood farmers market about 20 minutes before today's closing. Our late shopping helped us to take advantage of some antsy agriculturalists who wanted to slash their prices and lighten their trucks a little before making the long drive home. I scooped up two baskets of sweet strawberries for $1 each and picked five tiny Page tangerines. The tangerine man let me have a sixth one to tip the scale over half a pound and charged me just a buck. I would have bought verdant veggies such as beets, daikon and mitsuba, or a stringent Japanese parsley, except that I remembered how my inability to reconcile my culinary ambitions with my busy schedule resulted in many casualties inside my refrigerator's crisper. Max, on the other hand, shopped for ingredients to make a Sunday dinner of risotto and asparagus for him and his significant other.
Though I sometimes think farmers markets can be a little pretentious -- the one in Berkeley, Calif., is vegetarian only! -- I love the variety of stalls that cook and sell food on the spot. I was tempted by horchata, roasted corn, sausages, apple dumplings, Russian coffee, tamales and many other cheap eats. Max and I both ordered pupusas stuffed with zucchini, mushrooms and cheese from the pupusa lady. The sun glaring down at us as we ate sitting on the street curb had nothing on the heat meter compared to the homemade salsa. The creamy slices of avocado provided a bit of relief for my tortured tongue. I didn't quite understand why El Salvadorans pile their version of cole slaw on top of their version of a stuffed pancake. But the combination was effectively delicious.
On a side note, this is the last time that I will be practicing ghetto photojournalism with my cell phone camera. I am now the proud owner of a new Panasonic Lumix digital camera. I didn't splurge on a carrying case for the camera; I saved my big bucks for the 2-gigabyte memory card. So I might have to carry my new camera in a sock or something.
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