The morning started out cool and foggy. I went for a run on the hilly dirt road here, and the air was so chilly and moist in the shade of the tree canopy, that my glasses fogged up. Turnpike Road follows the course of the Blood Brook, which winds this way and that through culverts under the road (and is named for an old area family, not for early-American battles with Indians). Normally, in the summer, the brook is just a trickle between dry stones, but lately, because of the uncharacteristically (well, insanely) wet summer, it’s been raging. The rain has made it hard for all of the farmers around here. Haying has to happen in the spots of sun between storms. Vegetables are coming in later than usual. Sweet corn only just arrived.
By the time we got to the Norwich Farmers’ Market, the fog had burned off, and the sun was getting hot. We bought an array of goodies from the warm end of the spectrum, from dark new Peruvian Purple potatoes, to pork sausage and rainbow carrots, two kinds of beets, and pale yellow Fingerlings.
The potatoes all came from Hurricane Flats Farm, on the Connecticut River in South Royalton, Vermont, as did the beets. I bought two bunches: the concentric-striped Chioggias and mango-colored Goldens. I’m roasting them now, and will quarter them and toss them in some kind of salad later—probably with local goat cheese, again.
As we strolled from their stand, we stopped at Hogwash Farm’s to sample their beer bratwurst. (They raise beef cattle, pigs, and laying hens, and are located here in Norwich.) It was so tasty, that Jack and his cousin continued to sample while I looked through the freezer and picked out grass fed ground beef and chorizo. We decided to get a package of the bratwurst too, before the boys cleaned them out.
From there, we made our way to Your Farm’s stand, and spotted the dazzling rainbow carrots! We each tried a color. I’m partial to the purple-skinned-orange-centered kind.
After the Farmers’ Market, we stopped at Norwich Square, where all the shops were having a little outdoor fair. There were musicians, made-to-order crepes, book-signing, and Silkie chickens pecking the grass.
Jack went into one of his favorite places in Norwich: the little house. Sometimes, while I drink a coffee and eat an almond croissant from Allechante, Jack brings his snack in there, sits in the rocker, munches, and hums a little hum to himself.
I left the boys with my mom in the bookstore, and ducked into Zuzu, where I found the snazziest dress! Here’s a shot of the fabric:
The Roving Locavore 