Look at this gorgeous tomato I just ate
I took that photo with my shitty iPhone 8. People laugh at me when I tell them that's still my level of phone but I don't care. It functions mostly.
Anyway, the tomato. It's from my local farmer's market. Not THE farmer's market, which is a whole thing here in Los Angeles, and deservedly so. The one I mean is my little neighborhood farmer's market that happens on an inconvenient day at an inconvenient time. I work from home so I build my situation around the tomato.
Today was a great day at the farmer's market because:
It was not suffocatingly hot for late September, which is often the worst month for hotness in Los Angeles. It was partly cloudy. That's the scratch ticket win of weather. Twenty degrees cooler and I'd be meteorologically ecstatic.
Perfect parking, achieved at exactly the right moment as street cleaning was ending and no other cars were circling to pounce. I am an innocent and good parking person; everyone else is a vulture.
One stall had all the cauliflower colors, like orange and purple. This doesn’t make cauliflower taste any better, but it’s the moral equivalent of that 90s ketchup for children that was weird colors or Halloween Cap’n Crunch that makes green milk. When you dunk the little purple floret into some ranch dressing you feel virtuous yet jazzy.
It's southern California and that means we get tomatoes many weeks past Tomato Closing Time in other parts of the country. The guy who sells the very inexpensive heirloom tomatoes has been the most consistent presence at this market since I started coming years ago. Every tomato he sells is beautiful. One dumb person in front of me thought they'd be all 60 Minutes about it and ask a bunch of time-wasting questions: "Are these organic? Are they ripe? Are they good still?" You shut your tomato hole and buy one. You go home. You eat the tomato. You're happy. You come back next week and buy more. This was the only obnoxious farmer's market person I witnessed today and usually there are several more.
The Apple Lady – she's the lady who sells apples – rounded down my price from $4.36 to an even four bucks and then gave me a free pear. She sells pears, too, if that wasn't clear.
Bub & Grandma's has a stall there now, a thrilling surprise. They sell beautiful bread and equally perfect pastries. I got a baguette and immediately texted Alonso, then Margy, who I knew would be happy for me. My niece is a baker here in the city at a different bakery, but I don't feel like buying bread from someone else is a betrayal. I have many lovers that are bread.
I had the exact right amount of cash on me. My tote bags were stylish but subtle.
