Photo by María Helena Carey
Some of us are more together when it comes to dinnertime: those who are, draw up charts and maps and do weekly menus. The shopping happens rigorously and religiously– ironically, to some, on Sunday. Others among us are, shall we say, constantly flying by the seat of our pants. We rush out to the store at the last minute, hoping for a dinnertime miracle that usually ends up being frozen in nature. Or we frequent nearby restaurants, maybe even those of the (cough-cough!) fast food variety, where we are only too glad to have someone else worry about the cooking and cleanup.
In an ideal world, when it came to dinnertime, I would just grab a handmade straw basket and saunter down to the high street or the fresh produce stand, and inspiration would strike while I lovingly pored over the bright fruits and vegetables. At the market, someone with a big heart, a deft touch with the vegetables, and a warm smile would dispense advice on how to pick a good avocado; how best to prepare Brussels sprouts (fried in a little bacon fat and with a drizzle of Balsamic vinegar, perhaps?); or maybe on when peas are in season (sorry– that season is pretty much over). I would beg the greengrocer to let me pop some peas out of their pods because it reminds me of my childhood, only to discover that the reason why we are charged $8 for a bag of shelled peas is because after the first ten pods it’s just not that much fun to keep doing it. In the embarrassing event that I find myself short in cash, I would be graciously offered to pay them back whenever, no sweat. And every time, after paying, I would be given a lagniappe just for being a customer– a perfectly ripe banana, or an orange.
If you’ve ever shopped at Calomiris and Sons, you know you’ve had one or more of these experiences, minus the handmade straw basket because I can’t get my cat out of mine. Whether you buy your produce in advance or you pop in a few hours before dinnertime, you know they are going to treat you so nicely, you will want to buy the $8 bag of peas without batting an eyelash. The warmth and the suggestions you also get with your purchase are the reason I keep going back, personally. If you’re stuck on what to make for dinner, their produce stand is an indispensable stop for inspiration and for niceness that you are not as likely to find at larger stores. And if you feel like a vegetarian meal one of these days and have a lot of time on your hands, you can get all of the ingredients for a wonderful Ratatouille from the Calomiris stand and live out a little Provençal fantasy of your own.
(For the record, yes: they did let me shell peas. And yes, it’s quite a drag to get it right after a little bit, especially when you’re clumsy and slow compared to Mrs. Calomiris and her helpers.)