If you're going to cook a mushroom, take my advice. Don't name it. No matter how cute it is.
It's opening day at the Old City Farmer's Market!
I run into Donna on my way. She already stopped there, but she does an about-face to walk back with me. She texts Mike to come along too. What great walking buddies I have!
The market is small today -- only 6 stands -- but it's bustling. The whole neighborhood is excited it's back in town. If the Farmer's Market is here, summer can't be far behind.
|(...along with Mike, the Photobomber!)|
It's a mushroom as big as a cauliflower. And it sits in my hand like a furry white hedgehog. The farmer at the table calls it a Pom-Pom.
I'm in love. How have I never seen these before?
"We're not here in the summer," the farmer says. "The mushrooms don't like the heat."
Ah, I get it. Mushroom weather and prosthetic weather are one and the same. Today's cloudy and cool, ideal for both of us. I knew we were kindred spirits!
I run my finger along the mushroom's ridged surface. What looks like fur doesn't feel furry at all. It feels like a mushroom -- but a mushroom that's been sculpted into Donald Trump's hairstyle. (Only much, much cuter!)
"Pull it apart gently," the farmer says. "Sauté it in oil." He says it'll take on the flavor of whatever I add.
"I'm getting a pet mushroom!" I tell Donna and Mike.
"Don't name it," Mike says.
We walk home with my treasure in a paper bag. Unnamed.
I wasn't planning to cook a real dinner tonight. It's already 6:15, and my socket is rubbing. But now I've got this mushroom. And I'm curious.
Plus, I'm energized by the Farmer's Market. I head out to the balcony, where baby greens are ready to be picked!
I used to have a big garden at my house in South Philly, but after my accident, it became too much to handle. I've downsized to a tiny balcony. It has more potential than you'd think.
In just two flower boxes, this year's crops are growing strong: rosemary, lavender, baby greens, sweet basil, and (hopefully) tomatoes!
Back in the kitchen, the greens go into a salad. Frozen pesto goes into the microwave. And that very cute mushroom goes into a cast iron sauté pan.
When I tug it gently, it pulls apart like the cottony tufts of a Dr. Seuss tree.
|Now that's Farm to Table!|
By now, you're probably wondering what the point of this cooking lesson is.
Usually I learn something new with each mile marker. Come out with some greater understanding of the world, or myself, or life in general.
Try new things?
Appreciate the small?
Find beauty in nature?
Go ahead. Help yourself. Take whatever appeals to you.
That cute (and very delicious!) mushroom appealed to me.
Love mushrooms? Mycopolitan Mushroom Company is a mushroom farm located in a Philadelphia basement! Check out their website for more info!