
Greetings, Marketeers:
I don't know about you, but I was not quite ready to see the first falling leaf of autumn land on my windshield today. I had to go home and shell some cranberry beans, boil 'em up fresh, douse 'em with olive oil, and spike 'em with cracked black pepper, add a few choice chunks of Achadinha's goat sausage and a shaving of their equally fab-o Broncha, pour the whole mess hot over a plate of Airielle's Early Girls and Eda's Italian spinach, and eat it on the stoop just to get over the shock.
This time of year always brings some welcome changes. A mellowing into the postsummer rhythms imposed by the school year, followed by a month of glorious weather that induces a final great flush of a harvest and relatively open roads revealing vistas so profoundly beautiful they defy description. Perfect for having a few choice folks over for a sundown/moonrise feast in the yard featuring the best food in all the world in one of the prettiest places there is on the planet -- when you can see it. Bezillionaires can't buy a night that includes an impromptu feast prompted by a cinematically handsome fisherman delivering a 15-pound albacore tuna right out of the water and to your door, hoping to trade for some eggs. When this happens to you, I recommend you hand over a dozen, thank the gentleman profusely, sharpen your favorite knife, and have at it.
Filet out four fat loins and admire them, aloud please. Then douse them in the remains of a bottle of unfiltered sake, grate a plump knob of Jim's Pacifica grown organic ginger over all, say a small prayer of gratitude and walk away for the morning. Then find your way to the Coastside Farmer's Market and hunt up the rest, remembering to stop by the Cipponeri's for a handful of late summer peaches, the new crop of raw almonds and hit up Juhn for a few ears of corn. Stroll around until you have filled your basket with things that delight you for their colors, textures and perfumes, and have a chance to meet up with a friend or two and invite them over to join you in preparing whatever emerges from your baskets to enjoy with the sake-soaked steaks you have waiting for you, longingly, at home.
Make a peach upside-down cake with cornbread batter for desert. Easiest thing in all the world and it will wow 'em. No bezillionaire I know has ever had such a thing in their own home. Peel and chunk up four peaches, then toss them with a modest amount of molasses and a heaping tablespoon (no more, I mean it) of sugar. Put the CD of the great band you just discovered, Canadian, prodigiously talented and gentlemen all, while you melt a bit of butter in a baking dish. Plop the peaches in the buttered pan and let them settle while you make your favorite cornbread recipe -- but substitute almond oil if you have it, add a teaspoon of good vanilla, cut off the kernels of two ears of corn right into the batter and add about 1/2 cup of raw almonds that you have pulsed in a food processor until they resemble grits in size. Stir it on up, pour it over the peaches, put it in the oven for as long as your recipe calls.
When your guests arrive, uncover your loins and massage them with late harvest olive oil till they glisten all over (oh, did I say that?). Apply a gentle sprinkling of a apellated sea-salt, Aguni, perhaps, and onto the grill they go. Be kind and use only hardwood charcoal, briquettes affront my sensitivities. Serve the fish with the generous offerings of your guests. Whatever they bring will only enhance the entree, particularly if there are figs involved in any way.
To make the most of out of an evening, invite a poet, an artist or two, a mechanic from another country, at least one musician and a scientist, preferably an astronomer or chaos theorist. One or two will decline, claiming trips to Munich take precedence, but never mind. The conversation will astound. The meal will render you speechless. You'll sleep the sleep of the angels. And you won't give a rip that you only got one barbecue in this whole summer because, dang, it was a doozie and you will talk about it for weeks. The traveling scientist and his author bride will regret their decision to make their flight.
Helpful Hints: If you do not know an impossibly handsome fisherman ( or better still, one of their lovely wives), what are you waiting for? Go to the harbor and meet one. Or remember that Blue Ocean Fish come to both the Half Moon Bay and Pacifica locations, and always has a great selection of fish caught right here in Half Moon Bay, hauled in on The Seabird, the mighty Mr. Morgan and occasionally Barbara Faye.
This Week: If you haven't had any figs get them while you can, this is likely the last week we will have them. Look for coastside-grown tomatillos from the student growers of The HEAL Project this week -- pair them up with Fly Girl's Padrone peppers, and that is one kickin' combo. Apples and pears are making their way in along with the hard fall squashes. Citrus is on the way, and clementines will show up shortly, but there will never be one as sweet as the one who just made her way to Cloud Nine.
Thanks a bushel and a bunch to all of our sponsors, our location hosts, supporters and neighbors on both sides of The Slide and most especially to the Friends of the Farmers' Markets.
Erin Tormey
Founder, Manager
Coastside Farmers' Markets
May - December
Half Moon Bay @ Shoreline Station, Saturdays 9 to 1
Pacifica @ Rockaway Beach, Wednesdays 2:30 to 6:30
"Farming looks mighty easy when your plow is a pencil and you are a thousand miles from a cornfield." Dwight D. Eisenhower
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