Compared to much of the rest of the world, most Americans eat a fairly limited variety of breakfast foods. Cold cereal or a bagel on weekdays, and eggs and bacon on the weekends, seem to be typical breakfast menus for most of us — if, that is, we bother to eat breakfast at all.
We recently found ourselves breaking our own breakfast rut by expanding our repertoire to include earthy truffled pecorino cheese, spicy capicola cured meat, and cured tomatoes, all from our friends Jody and Luisa Somers of Dancing Ewe Farm in upstate New York. It was absolutely delicious, and we weren’t hungry again until dinner.
Of course, we kept the coffee on the menu. It’s irreplaceable.
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.