CSA & Market Report for September 9

I made it to the markets early this week and they were blissfully uncrowded.  I sailed through and was finished by 9:30am, and then felt a little sad about it - I almost went back to just stroll and look.  But, Husband and I have another week of not eating at home and I had a mission to buy as little as possible again. 
 
The CSA box this week included a watermelon, potatoes, tiny cabbage heads (one pictured above), shallots, carrots, mixed greens, a peppers, eggs, and arugula (that's rocket to those of you in the rest of the world).  I love arugula.  Love, love love.  So you can look for at least 2 arugula recipes this week from things going on in my head.

Every Saturday morning I buy Husband a croissant from Omega Artisan bakery in the North Market; it's the best croissant I can find in Columbus - I have never been to France, so I can't speak to its authenticity, but it's a nice croissant.  If they made mini ones, I would buy one for myself, too, but I just can't justify all that fatty goodness every week . . . I could, however, justify one cinnamon roll.  Every Saturday when I am standing in line for Husband's croissant, there is a cinnamon roll panic.  I have literally seen grown women stamp their feet when they feel the person in front of them is going to buy all of the cinnamon rolls.  I have seen this happen on numerous occasions.  The way grown adults react when being told they can't get what they want never ceases to amaze me.  But I digress.  Could a cinnamon roll really be that good?  I feel that I should make a disclaimer here.  You might be a French bakery, but I have an Amish grandma and you don't.  No one, and I mean no one, makes a meaner cinnamon roll than my grandma.  One day, if you're lucky, I'll share the recipe with you.  But on with Omega's cinnamon roll: it was good.  It was very, very sweet.  It was so sweet I could only eat about 4 bites, each with a large coffee break in between.  It might seem, for the child inside me, there was not enough of a glaze (Grandma's have brown sugar frosting, which in Plain City circles is referred to as "Gingerich" frosting, even though she's not a Gingerich - I don't know if there's a frosting with her surname or not), but the cinnamon filling is so sweet the drizzle of glaze is merely for garnish.  I personally prefer a softer dough, with a strong cinnamon filling which isn't too sweet, and then a nice lashing of the aforementioned frosting on top.  You can add more if you like, or take away if you like.  I should add that Husband loved this cinnamon roll, but even he couldn't eat more than a few bites.  So, although it was a good cinnamon roll, I doubt I'll eat more than one a year, and you certainly won't see me stamping my foot in line when the person in front of me buys a whole dozen.  I hope you never see me stamping my foot in reaction to anything - I think my mother would be really disappointed in me!

On with marketing. . . from the Worthington Market I of course picked up some potatoes from Arbor Hill Organics, even thought I don't seem to be eating as many potatoes as I did last year.  This year is more of a bean year.  I bought mainly fruit this week: nectarines and Asian pears from Gillogly, along with some Gala apples.  Honeycrisps are on their way!  Try to beat me to them.  Actually, I might stamp my foot over Honeycrisps . . . Here was the much healthier beginning of breakfast, a Gala in the car driving from market to market (yes, Dad, I know my check engine light is on):

I also bough a lot of peppers in preparation for making some pepper relish this week - Mom, you might have a canned good yet!!

At the North Market, I bought some fresh kidney beans from Cottage Gardens.  These beans are so good I could eat them just boiled in water - no salt or pork products required (I said required, Chef, of course I would never make a bean without some sort of pork product).

I guess that about sums it up for this week's report.  I refuse to accept the arrival of Fall and therefore ignored all pretty squash that vied for my attention.  I'll buy you when I have to wear my sweater to the market - so there.