*Okay, that’s not entirely true. The pizza was brought to me by all of those wonderful farms with all of those wonderful farmers. You didn’t actually get any. Sorry. But now you have the shopping list, so you can make it yourself. Just add yeast.
I become very attached to the farmers at my farmers market, but I become absolutely addicted to their food. Those of you who have eaten in my home, or who regularly eat the food from your own farmers market, understand exactly what I mean. There’s no comparison between food from a farmers market and food from a grocery store.
I learned recently that one of my favorite farms, Dancing Ewe, won’t be coming to the Union Square Greenmarket this year. That means I won’t see my friends, farmers Jody and Luisa Somers and their infant son Mateo, nor will I be bringing home weekly supplies of sheep’s milk ricotta, pecorino romano, merguez, capicola, or pancetta. I still have a bit of pecorino romano left from last fall, which I carefully preserved over the winter. When I’ve eaten the last bite, I know I will cry, not only for the loss of their wonderful food, but because I will miss their lovely smiles.