Confessions of a Farmers Market Shopper

A confession: I am a recovering non-healthy food shopper.

Before I went green, I avoided healthy places like the plague (if you can call a health food store a plague). I wasn't used to them and didn't trust them. When John and I lived in L.A., our apartment complex included the Erewhon health food supermarket, one of the best in the country. It scared me so much I forbade John to shop there. (He told me later that he used to sneak in and buy one or two things so I wouldn't find out.)

Now I do as much organic shopping as possible, but old habits die hard. When we lived ten blocks from Union Square, we almost never went to the farmers market, even though we loved it. Now that we live way uptown we go even less.

Three weeks ago, however, we fell in love with all the delicious locally grown food we bought at a Farmers Market in . . . New Jersey (we were visiting friends). I decided if I could bring vegetables back from the Jersey shore, I could get on the subway and go back to Union Square.

So this past Saturday, I went back and found . . . it was still an ordeal. While I love being surrounded by all the fresh fruits and veggie, I still hate the crowds. Every square inch is covered with lettuce, potatoes and people. And I'm not sure all the people are organic.

In the past I've never been sure exactly what to buy at a farmers market. Or even how much for that matter. Each stand is filled with crazy looking, root-type veggies with names like celeriac or rutabagas. I thought a rutabaga was something people drove in the 30's.

But Saturday, I had a different experience. I decided to embrace the process and conquer my inner non-organic shopper.

I took my time, took in all the sights and smells and patiently made my way over to each stand. I picked things up, smelled them, thought about what I might do with them and found myself standing with a parsnip in one hand and a bunch of kale in the other.

With no idea of how I wanted my food to taste, I decided to go for how it would look - I went for amazing colors. I grabbed red onions, blue potatoes, rainbow carrots! If nothing else, my plate would look like there should be a pot of gold at the end of it.

I took all my beautiful finds home and spread them out on my counter. I took a photo. And then I panicked. What had I done? How was I going to eat these visuals?

My friend Jules had taught me some recipes, so I pulled out my cutting board. I started to chop and slice, throwing everything into a bowl. I took out two chicken breasts, drizzled agave on top and laid them in a casserole dish. I scooped in all the veggies around the chicken - the rainbow carrots, the parsnip, the bright red onions and garlic. I coated them with olive oil, masala and curry powders and then roasted it for an hour in a 400 degree oven. What came out of the oven surprised me. It was like getting a delicious, fragrant, pat on the back from the farmers market!

The next morning, I used some more of my farmers market ingredients for breakfast. I sliced up blue potatoes, diced the most tear-jerking onions ever and roasted those babies for an hour. Then I took my farm-fresh eggs, some more onions and peccorino cheese and made a kick-ass omelet that was so healthy a doctor would prescribe it. Everything was so fresh! I declared my lifetime membership in my local diner over.

I couldn't remember what I had been so afraid of. Loss of convenience? Greater expense? I didn't experience either of those. I realized what I was afraid of was leaving the comfort zone. But I had found something better. And tastier.

As I looked I my plate, I realized that I really did get my pot of gold...not one filled with coins but one filled with good health for me!