This weekend we were fortunate to visit our sister's family in Memphis. Meeting our niece was the good news.
The bad news? 101 degrees plus humidity.
The high temps - you worked up a sweat walking at 7 a.m. - meant our excursions were largely limited to indoors activities. Except one.
My sister, who possibly knows us too well, asked us if the kids would want to go to the farmers market.
That's like asking other kids if they'd like to play their Wii.
So Saturday morning we got to check out their "bigger" farmers market (as opposed to the "one vendor" one). My sister apologized for the 20-minute drive in advance.
The "inconvenience" was so worth it. This market spanned buildings. Rows and rows of plants, dozens of herb varieties (I contained myself and only bought a Kentucky spirament, and not the banana and strawberry mints too.)
My son stood amazed by the shelling machines and couldn't contain himself with the excitement over the produce. I bribed him with a box of okra, which we won't get in Indiana for about another month. I sighed over the boxes of blueberries, blackberries and peaches, which we won't see until later in the summer here. And frankly, I'm jealous of any farmers markets that sell seafood!
On our way home, we planned a stop at the Nashville Farmers Market, a good halfway point to run the kids around and get them a snack. The Nashville Market, an easy drive from I-65, reminded me a lot of Kansas City's City Market. Even on a Monday afternoon, the main building was filled with large baskets of fresh fruits and vegetables. We splurged, stocking up on a basket of peaches and some broccoli and cauliflower. Coupled with what has cropped up in my garden the last few days, I'm covered until Saturday's market at home.
Tonight we're dining on cornmeal-fried okra and homemade oatmeal peach cobbler. If only my husband had picked chicken up from the store, we'd have the trifecta of Southern food!