Many, many thanks to all of you who are contributing suggestions for this project and believing in me and being general good sports about how much fun this is going to be. You are welcome at my dinner table any time. Those of you who haven’t yet bet on me and are still naysaying, you can suck it.
So I’ve been itching all week to get this show on the road, but per my own rules of engagement, I don’t get to fire my first shot until Monday. In the meantime I’ve gotten my fill of eating out every night, and we had a fantastic dinner at La Tavola, which is celebrating tomato season right now with its annual Tomatofeast. So. Delicious.
Today, unable to contain my excitement any longer, I got up early and went to the East Lake Farmer’s Market to see a man about some squash. I thought the whole thing would be thrilling. I would take my camera! I would buy some squash! I would take a picture of me buying squash! I imagined a photo of me with the farmer, ala American Gothic, but proudly holding squash instead of a pitchfork, and smiling instead of scowling. So, not really American Gothic at all. But the farmer from whom I bought my squash for this week’s battle, a man whose livelihood depends on the consumption of produce items, wasn’t as charmed by my hatred of vegetables as I thought he should be. In fact, he had the same reaction everyone else does. “You don’t eat vegetables?” Boo farmer.
So. I’m all squashed up and ready to go. Ready. Steady. Ready. Steady.
Wait. Wait. Wait.