I have a soft spot in my heart for local produce stands and farmers markets. Whenever we travel, I try to find a weekly market in a nearby village to visit. Something about seeing what is grown in a particular region, makes me feel connected to the locals and less like a tourist. I can imagine what is on their dinner table that evening as their family gathers round.

The market outside Old Jerusalem is filled with olives and spices and nuts and dried fruits.

Pike’s Place Market in Seattle is a feast for the eyes. And yes, this one is filled with tourists, but worth a visit.

The markets in the French countryside are like paintings; you just want to step inside and become a part of the canvas.

Here at home in Chattanooga, I make weekly trips to my favorite produce stand, Linda’s Produce, to buy seasonal fruits and vegetables. Before making purchases, I walk around the whole place, scouting out what’s fresh. With a delicate hand, I lift a peach from the basket to check the firmness. With a skeptical eye, I analyze the Peaches and Cream, bi-colored corn, and try to figure out how recently it was picked from the field. I thump a few watermelons and mentally grade the yellow squash and zucchini. And I smell everything. I have become my mother.

In 2019, words like local, organic, and farm to table, are part of our common lingo. Decades ago, my mom was a pioneer. Quality seasonal fruit and produce was our everyday, childhood experience. Our family field of a summer garden was filled with rows of peas, green and yellow wax beans, soy beans, varieties of squash, zucchini, broccoli, corn, peppers, onions, potatoes, tomatoes, and lush bushes of red raspberries. In addition, every Monday through out the whole year, our little town of Hartville, Ohio hosted a flea market/sale barn. Among the stalls of trinkets, crafts and antiques, there were food and produce stands. Just as regular as we attended church on Sundays, Mondays meant that we went to the sale barn.

Our mom had her local favorites: there was the banana man, with a counter mounded high with bunches of monkey fruit. Beside his stall, an older couple with thick, German accents, would weigh and package chunks of cheese and lunch meat; our order was usually Muenster or Brick cheese and Lebanon Bologna. Mrs. Seacrest was a large, friendly bee keeper, who sold her sweet wares at the sale barn. My mom bought honey from her in five gallon tins. I’ve never forgotten what Mrs. Seacrest told my mom about me: she said if there were 100 babies lined up, she could pick me out of the bunch because she knew my mom. Perhaps she’d been staring at the rows of honey combs too long. :)

The kids’ favorite was Snyder’s Orchard. We venerated this hundred year old family business from Alliance, Ohio. Our mom bought apples by the bushel, mostly for snacking. It was not unusual for us to have a couple of apples each, when we came home from school. Is it any wonder that we all love fruit so much to this day?! My brother, Lowell and his family still buy their apples from Snyder’s. Our mom would be so very proud!

Recently, I was choosing a head of cabbage at Linda’s Produce, to sauté simply in a skillet with a little bacon. This is the easiest vegetable side dish to make and it is so good, you’ll find yourself eating the leftovers cold from the refrigerator. Standing in my local produce stand, I realized that this is where I feel the closest to my mom. I was fourteen years old when she was had a stroke; she lived twenty more years, but we became the parents, the caretakers. Her love of fresh, healthy food is where I feel the strongest connection with her. I wish I could sit and have lunch with her. I’d thank her for being a foodie pioneer and for teaching us to love the scent of a perfectly ripened peach.

If your mom is no longer on this earth, I’d love to know where you feel the closest to her?

Cabbage with Bacon

1 head of cabbage

1-2 slices thick bacon

salt

pepper

celery seed (optional, but my mom always used this when she made steamed cabbage)

Cut the head of cabbage in half and remove the core. Thinly slice as much of the cabbage as your large skillet will hold. Non-stick skillets are fine, but a large cast iron one would be perfect. I barely managed to get 3/4 of the sliced cabbage head into my skillet. It does shrink down in volume as it sautés.

Finely dice the bacon; over medium heat, cook it in the pan until crispy and brown. Remove the bacon pieces, saving the bacon grease. Add a drizzle of olive oil to the bacon grease for a total volume of 1-2 Tablespoons. Crank the heat up to medium-high and add the sliced cabbage. Sauté for 6-8 minutes, turning frequently with tongs. You want the cabbage to be slightly browned, but still toothsome in texture. Stir in salt and coarsely ground pepper to taste. Add a pinch of celery seed, if desired. Finally, add the browned bacon pieces, giving it a final toss, and serve the cabbage on a platter. A whole head would provide 8 servings.