A Local Whore

Last summer my mom was at my aunt and uncle's helping them make dinner. She was chopping veggies when she announced she was becoming a real localvore. "Whadda ya want to do THAT for?" my uncle responded. Slightly hurt by his nasty tone, my mom meekly explained that it was good for the community, a nice way to support her local farmers -- whom she liked -- and generally, she said, it's good for the environment . When she didn’t hear any response from either her sister or brother-in-law, she looked up from her chopping to see them both staring at her horrified. Finally Aunt Susan says, “What are you becoming again?"

"A LOCALVORE!"
"Oh my god," said my uncle, "I thought you said a 'Local Whore'!"
They all had a good chuckle and everything was right with the world.

I did some localvoring myself this weekend. Union Square has a great farmers market on the weekends. Loads of fresh, local produce, veggies, flowers, meats, cheeses and baked goods. I had walked through the market a few times before, but I was always too scared to buy anything fearing that one of the merchants would try to haggle with me (I have a bizarre fear of haggling). I sheepishly lurked around a stand that had beautiful, ripe tomatoes and finally, assured that there was little to no haggling going on, I bought a few. Triumph! I am becoming a localvore!

Me doing a little localvoring. I'm going to need to have a serious discussion with Matt about letting me out of the house in that outfit. Good lord! It looks like the secret footage from What Not To Wear.
The fruits of our labor: a very yummy lunch of all local veggies.

Song of the Day

I've been playing a lot of old school stuff lately so in an effort to be more relevant I chose Lady Gaga's Poker Face.