Yes, these are the salad days at the Grand Army Plaza Greenmarket. I've been trying to economize by buying whole heads of lettuce and washing their muddy selves, but today I fell for the mesclun, all washed and dainty. It's the second Saturday in a row that I haven't had the Child along to grudgingly drag bags of produce and I miss her, even her sighs of exasperation. Spouse nobly filled the breach. We've been indulging in Food that Child Dislikes (mussels, pesto, cabbage—no, not all together), but we'll be awfully glad when she returns from her stay in the mountains.
Today's demo chef was breadmeister Daniel Leader of Bread Alone, whipping up grilled flatbreads and selling his books. I almost bought this one, then remembered I have already got several tantalizing bread cookbooks that I never use.
Watching Leader pour olive oil over his hands and then stretch and flip this delicate dough onto first one grill and then another, I remembered why my bread-making books sit on the shelf: It's all in the wrist action. If I tried this, I'd have charred dough gobbets dripping like a Dali watch through the grill rack. The finished product was crunchy and tasty.
As we were leaving, Spouse spotted indie-flick favorite John Turturro out with his young son (cute kid, not shown) looking over tomatoes. I wasn't sure it was him at first, he looked so tan; but Spouse should know, since he went to high school with John's brother Ralph.
GREENMARKET DOG OF THE WEEK
Napoleon is a white Golden Retriever; his owner says it's an unusual English bloodline, and this gentle boy is indeed the color of Devonshire cream. He's two years old and has a big head shaped like that of a James Thurber cartoon dog, with a Thurberesque air of quiet loyalty to go with it.
Man is troubled by what might be called the Dog Wish, a strange and involved compulsion to be as happy and carefree as a dog.
Cartoon: Thurber House