FOR many years, the seasons came and went with no particular urgency
in my kitchen. Did I need basil? I could get basil. Ditto melons,
potatoes, squash.
New York is full of stores catering to off-season-produce junkies like me.
I frequented the Greenmarket, too, but as much for the sake of the
atmosphere as the food. Like, it seems, half of New York, I spent
summer Saturdays trekking to Union Square to stock up on heirloom
tomatoes and corn; I lined up on Wednesdays for scallops or fish.
Two years ago my family and I moved into an apartment overlooking the
square. Now I rely on those 115 farmers, fishers and bakers for much
of our daily sustenance. In the middle of Manhattan, we eat foods
that mostly come straight from the farm.
Cooking from the market obsesses me and it challenges me. How can I
build a meal out of the meat from Vendor A, the herbs from B, the
fruits and vegetables from C?