6th Week, For P.A.D.S.
Oak Park Farmer's Market 7/9/05
We got cherries, deep red bing and pale red Queen Ann; tart and fresh and tart and slowly thawing IQF (individually quick frozen). We got berries, blue and goose and rasp and something pronounced liked moosh (a maroon variant on the goose with a Germanic name I soon forgot). We got summer sauce apples practically before the first peaches appeared, but there are a few of those too (although a bit hard to chew). Same with the apricot, all quite large but also not quite to their prime. We got massive beets and massive cucumbers because that's where Nicholl's Farm pointed their irrigation. And we got a lot of other things at the Oak Park Farmer's Market, but I was not really paying attention (?!?)
I have a great excuse. Donuts. On Saturday night we attended the gala LTHForum 1,000 member celebration, and after having been entertained by the Mayor's Mouth, sated by gobs of grilled meats and (two) slices of cake (well I had to try both), and lubricated with a few shots of soju (thanks Shirley!), we made a relatively early exit. I told SteveZ that my wife, the Condiment Queen, was exhausted from having rose at the crack of dawn to make donuts. Steve said, "that's so nice of her." I said, "not for me, for the entire village of Oak Park." She mixed batter, twirled the cutting-plopping machine, and gingerly flipped each donut with a giant set of chopsticks. Of course she also lifted each finished batch with a large metal screen and then squeegeed excessive oil back into the fryer. A day later she said she never wanted to eat a donut again. Not me. I was donut boy. Runner. Slave. I brought fresh donuts to the sellers, tossed out garbage, filled up coffee urns, stayed on top of the cream and sugar and otherwise personally made sure all the parts hummed. Finally, the chowhounditas, Hannah and Sophia, assisted in the sale of donuts and drinks.
We and a bunch of others did all of this for the benefit of West Suburban P.A.D.S., an organization that serves men, women and families who are homeless or are at risk of homelessness in west suburban Cook County. All donut profits this week went to P.A.D.S.
So, if I did not pay too close of attention to what was there this week, I had a reason.
Note, I will be out of town for next week's market. I will hopefully recruit a guest blogger to document the 7th market. Otherwise, see ya in two weeks.