Prospect: A Year in the Park

Green, back

Has this winter been more interminable than most? Last March featured a bizarre turbo-springing heat wave, and by now the magnolias had shot their bolts and the hyacinths were fainting. This year, on the verge of April, the park is still mostly bare (except for brave daffodils in the undergrowth), and in my own garden, the croci have mostly forgotten to party.

At the Grand Army Plaza Greenmarket, bags of increasingly aged roots still predominate, but a cheering mountain of spinach appeared before the arch. The sun was strong enough for shades, and hothouse tulips (and pink shirts) bloomed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Forced cherry blossoms are a fine choice for local residents, many of whom inhabit homes with 20-foot ceilings.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

At the Blue Moon Fisheries stand, the mackerel are running;  Daughter was enchanted by the perky cartoon fishies.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On Saturdays, we park on President Street, grab a coffee from the Love Truck guy (who reminds us of Luke in "Gilmore Girls"), and cruise the market, then finish our errands while munching a pastry from Bread Alone (or, if we are virtuous, an apple). President Street should be aflame with forsythia by now, but they are barely budging; however, these enormous hellebores were nodding in a brownstone front garden. They are also called Lenten rose--how appropriate for this tardy spring, since Lent just ended!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A mere dusting

The arctic temperatures, not the token snowfall, were the story at the Grand Army Plaza greenmarket, where the lettuce was frozen and the snakes were grumpy at being made to wear lacy mantillas.

 

 

 

 

 

 Over on the Long Meadow, the parents and kids of Park Slope and environs bundled up and set forth in search of snowy fun. Everyone sort of kidded themselves that there was much more snow than there actually was. In fact, even in the frigid air, it was still muddy enough to smell the earth.

 

 

 

Spouse and I reminisced about bringing Daughter and her snow-saucer contraption over to the park in far deeper snow; meanwhile, across the street in the public library, said Daughter gamely endured an interview for a prestigious university.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Everyone talks about "surviving" various phases of early childhood, but by the time people are hounding your child for the umpteenth recitation of her scores, talents, grades, clubs, and "passion," the years when happiness could be bought with a snow saucer and a restorative lunch of Spaghetti-Os seem exquisitely simple. Today, we warmed up with a Thai lunch, assuring her over dumplings that it would all work out fine.

 

Color wheels

The biggest news at yesterday's Grand Army Plaza Greenmarket: peaches are two weeks early. And they're good ones. Daughter and I devoured them on the spot with juice running off our chins.  We have eaten a sack of them in 24 hours.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was struck by a series of vibrant color matchings in the clear June sunshine, starting with yellow and dark chocolate bouquets.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Blueberry and tomato must be the flag of some country where it's always summer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Green or yellow? The eternal dilemma for summer squash...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...as well as beans. (Solution: get both.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Seduced by some grilled samples at the information booth (doled out by a young lady who admitted being a vegetarian), we picked up some kielbasa from Flying Pigs Farm for Fathers' Day breakfast (and made it fly across the arch). It was wonderful, as smoky as a campfire. As long as this exists, I will never be a vegetarian, especially since the Flying Pigs are humanely raised and happy ones.

 

 

 

 

 

 

GREENMARKET DOG OF THE DAY

She can haz cookie. Her owners were in a hurry but said her name was Ducky. I'm not sure if she's a Bichon or a poodle but she loves sprinkles.

Sea of greens

The sugar snap pea avalanche has arrived! I've been snacking on them incessantly. Pulling the string out of the pod is intensely pleasurable if you are as obsessive as I am.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Quadriga, as seen from flower-pot level. I love the juxtaposition of these noble steeds in the sky atop their arch of triumph...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...gazing down at all the rural goodness and its assorted celebrants.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

GREENMARKET DOG OF THE DAY

It was a dark and stormy night.  A pit bull followed a man down the street. She was emaciated and wounded; her rescuers believe she may have been used as a "bait" dog in fighting rings. But the story of Maggie, who was rehabilitated and adopted, has a happy ending. Although she can still be a little too assertive with other dogs, said her owner, this girl is so gentle she snorgles babies.

 

 

 

   Abandoned pit bulls fill our Brooklyn animal shelters, in desperate need of homes; their new owners sing their praises as loving and loyal. Maggie agrees.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pinkmarket, bluemarket

Before sampling the madness of yesterday's GoogaMooga Festival, I did make it to the Greenmarket at Grand Army Plaza. Rhubarb was still a painful $5 a pound (it takes a lot of raw rhubarb to make a pot of stewed rhubarb, and I cannot get through spring without a pot of stewed rhubarb). However, local strawberries were "down" to 2 boxes for $10. Sigh.

What caught my eye were the flowers. It's a great time of year for tender, old-fashioned ones that few commercial florists ever carry. Above: Dame's Rocket, a.k.a. Hesperis. In my garden, this flower refuses to grow anywhere except between the cracks of cement; there is nothing like a dame.

I believe these are "Bachelor's Buttons," a.k.a. Cornflowers. (Apparently they grow wild in some cornfields.) Now when someone describes "cornflower-blue eyes," you can verify.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I don't know what these are. If I had a SmartPhone, could I get an app that would let me wave my phone over a blossom and identify it? If you know what these are, leave a comment and let me know!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

GREENMARKET DOG OF THE DAY

The fringed sausage is definitely named Banjo. Her big buddy is named something serious that begins with G...Grimsby? Anyway, they are great friends. It's nice to know a friend has your back...literally.

 

Blue sky over Church Avenue

Just a block south of the Parade Grounds of Prospect Park, Church Avenue has slumbered for years, a strip of scruffy retail nothingness. But word on the street is that Church is poised for a long-awaited rebirth, and today, its first street fair looked like a wild success.

Meet some of my neighbors on "our side" of the park.

    

In the middle is Dr. Courtney Perry and Geneva (a rescued friend and patient) in front of her new veterinary practice, PAWSitive. She's a Wellesley and Cornell grad who's come home to Ditmas Park, and we're very glad.

   

More dog excellence: a Noble Pitbull and a Chillin' Husky, both rescues. (Note: There is, yet to come, a Greenmarket Dog of the Day!)

Another eagerly welcomed newcomer to the strip is Am Thai Bistro, whose absurdly gorgeous staff were dishing up curry puffs, coconut rice balls and spring rolls.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sensory overload for small fry. Sometimes good...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...sometimes not so much.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The vendors were the usual suspects (including sausages and crew socks, those street-fair essentials), but there were also Latin-themed totes and tiny suits with ties.

 

   

Robopuppy? Copter-on-a-stick? Cheap machine gun?

 

 

Congratulations to the Church Avenue BID, whose efforts to breathe life into this languishing corridor have begun to bear fruit. A coffee shop called Lark is in the works,  joining mom-and-pop ventures like Shayna's roti shop and La Huasteca, so wander on down after a soccer match or a tennis game; Cortelyou Road, look to your laurels. And chefs, merchants, countrymen, come on down; as you can see from the montage of fine novelty wares above, Church Avenue lends a magical glow to any merchandise.

GREENMARKET DOG OF THE DAY

Behold the charming Bica, strolling with an old friend of mine at Saturday's Grand Army Plaza Greenmarket. He is a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, and his name is a slang term used around Lisbon for espresso.  Appropriately enough, he enjoyed licking the foam from my latte.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Color saturation

At today's Grand Army Plaza Greenmarket, pumpkin selection frenzy was at peak intensity among the Park Slope young'uns.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Global warming? Row cover technology? Whatever, I've never seen zucchini, peppers and eggplant look so good so late in the year. Ratatouille season is running right up to Hallowe'en.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Multicolored mountains of carrots sprawled in that October sunshine that makes everything feel a bit like a hallucination.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 These tiny purple berries scarcely look real. They're actually called beautyberries. 

 

GREENMARKET DOG OF THE DAY

Just in time for Pit Bull Awareness Day, here is Oliver, a rescue boy who's about 8 years old.  He lives happily with two Chihuahuas and a kittycat, and loves strangers; when I leaned down, I was rewarded with a big ol' bully kiss. Shelters overflow with these wonderful dogs, abandoned by irresponsible owners. Oliver is a great example of what gentle and magnificent companions they can be.

 

Sizzle

Things were heating up on Saturday at the Grand Army Plaza greenmarket: Peppers are coming in.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This life-size milking cow showed up to promote the Dutchess County Fair. I love big fiberglass animals.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Zucchini usually come in green or yellow, long or patty-pan, but Evolutionary Organics has piebald globey ones this year.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The morning's haul: tomatoes (beefsteak and yellow cherry), peaches, collards, garlic, arugula, mesclun, and a $6 Jersey canteloupe. Slaughtered, it provided three generous servings, so at $2 per serving that's not so bad for melon bliss. Still, it amazes me how fast we burn through cash in pursuit of seasonal delights. 

 

 

By dusk, things were heating up musically: We stopped in at the bandshell's Celebrate Brooklyn concert to hear Red Baraat, a brassy Bhangra band we'd loved at the Botanic Garden's Chili Pepper Festival. Talk about infectious beats; a few folks couldn't resist rocking out. We left before the venerable Dr. John took the stage.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tonight's Greenmarket dinner: Pasta panzanella from Giuliano Bugialli's pasta book. The only thing cooked is the spaghetti; you put hot pasta on a bed of fresh arugula, and spoon over a mix of chopped raw tomato, onion and garlic marinated simply in olive oil, with basil over the top. Great for a hot night.

Peaches and pianos

Yes, the peaches were in yesterday at the Grand Army Plaza Greenmarket, but I was too busy overbuying them to snap any "peach porn." (My AYITP entry of that title still gets lots of Google hits.) Also in was a rickety decoupaged piano from the "Sing for Hope: Pop-Up Pianos" project, returning to the city's streets again this summer in slightly altered form (and without the participation of Luke Gerram, the British artist who started it).

 

The Grand Army Plaza piano sits in one of those elegant little marble-columned shelters that, upon entry, reveal themselves to be latrines. Undeterred by the Seventies-evoking stench, a dad played (quite well) and sang (enthusiastically) the Beatles' "Michelle" while his family waited stoically.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We did our first Random Picnic, which must involve (a) no planning and (b) stuff we just bought at the Greenmarket. The proliferating food trucks around the market make this way too easy. Our current obsession is coffee (iced today) from the Love Truck, which has steamed milk and a great Sixties soundtrack blasting out.

 

I couldn't resist a $5 high-end grilled cheese sandwich from the 3-day-old "Morris" truck. I wonder why? (And why are so many food-truck guys adorable?) The sandwich was great—molten New York State cheddar on sourdough, with even more "artisanal" options available. The truck is named after his grandpa Morris.

Other options we like include the dumpling truck with faux-Maoist graphics...but we hate the juice truck, with its evil green "Pirate" juice purporting to be healthy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Armed with grilled cheese, peaches and iced coffee, we perched on our favorite hill near the park's entrance and watched the world go by.

 

Tweet-up

Spring on a rampage at the Grand Army Plaza greenmarket. Got pansies for the front-porch pot, and a red geranium to remind me of Italy. If we'd bought these branches, the cats just would've knocked 'em over.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two kinds of sparrows (good kinds, not just Eurosparrows) werer feasting on grass seed on the meadow: Song Sparrow (I think...)

 

 

 

 

...and White-Throated Sparrow (I think).

 

 

 

 

 

 

More colorful: my first sighted Robin.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

GRATUITOUS FUZZY CUTENESS