I have a Saturday Morning ritual.  Wake up 10 minutes late for leaving for Weight Watchers Meeting (this will have to change soon because they are moving my meeting time ) and throw on my Weight Watchers Uniform.  I wear the same blue dress each week for consistency.  Besides it is really cute and makes me feel young.  Throw a quick breakfast together if I didn’t remember to make overnight oats or something the night before and rush out the door with my bottle of water.  Of course I don’t actually eat or drink this until after I weigh in but it’s all about consistency with me.



I rock out at my meeting with Ann (Hi Ann!) and all the other lovely ladies who just make my Saturday morning fun and full of ideas.  Then I hit up the local farmer’s market.  It is a great group of vendors and I love how fresh everything is.  They even have a local bread company that lures me in with their chocolate ciabatta sometimes.  But not today.  Today I was entranced by Berries.

These berries were of the straw variety and I thought I had missed them.  With traveling and busy things the last couple of weeks I haven’t been able to hit up the farmer’s market.  And I’m not lucky enough to grow my own like Momma (although we snacked on plenty while at her house) or go pick them like Chelle.  But I will buy them when they are in front of my face.  In fact Hunni and I just bought some at the grocery the other day since they were on sale and I thought I had missed them at the market.







But as you can see those ones were grown in California….I’d love to visit and get some fresh from a road side stand but when they are shipped cross-country they lose some of their luster and even some of their taste.  Even writing “strawberries” in french on the container doesn’t make them taste as fresh as the ones picked early that morning on the farm.



Let’s look at a side by side comparison of the loveliness that is a farmer’s market strawberry compared to the cross-country berry.

The color is just off on the ones that came thousands of miles.  The one from the market just shines and invites me to eat it.  In fact I couldn’t resist one (or 5).

And even when you cut into them there is a difference.  They just don’t look the same.  They are distant cousins you may only see at random holidays and family reunions.







Sure the berries on the right look redder (they are the grocery version) but there is no juice.  Notice the blood-like stain on the cutting board when I sliced the just picked farmer’s market deliciousness.  They even leave red juice on my hand and the container they came in.

And even the tops tell the tale of the berry.







The farm fresh ones actually are still green and “fluffy” while the supermarket ones are smooshed from processing and kind of brown.  That is not appetizing at all.



Now I’m sure you’re thinking sure they look great but they are probably twice the price.  Oh no!  I have a budget and I could not afford berries that need a deposit of gold bullion to enjoy their deliciousness.  These berries were the exact same price as the ones we just bought at the grocery.  And if I didn’t already have 2 containers at home from the grocery I would have bought more.



But I did buy some other things that I could enjoy fresh from the farm(er’s market).  This is my fun ritual of the summer and fall after all.  I’m a food addict and good food is just better.

Notice I already had eaten half the pine and I demolished the rest after this picture was taken.  They are natures candy.  I remember eating tons as a kid.  And I still steal them off Momma’s raspberry bushes when we visit in season.







Squash and radishes to go in some recipes I’m making for this week’s menus.  Yep I’m actually making them.  And I’m hoping to find something fun to do with the radish greens.

I’m thinking this beauty will go in a sandwich or pasta or both.  But it was too tempting to pass up fresh tomatoes in season.

These are some more of natures candy that I will inhale this week.  And it was cool that they came with their own hair net.  I’ll have to try to keep Hunni’s hand out of these since he could polish this off in one sitting.



And finally the piece de resistance…

This vendor is actually one of my favorites and they make their own goat cheese from the goats they raise organically.  They had so many varieties like dill and herb and fig…but I stuck with a good old-fashioned one so I could mix it into savory or sweet.  This will be definitely demolished before the use by date on the label (7/13).  I’ll be lucky if it lasts the week.  And goat dairy doesn’t mess with my insides as much as cows.  Sorry Bessie.



So that’s how I spend every Saturday morning.  It is my little retreat and I enjoy it with a nice Starbucks latte to get my caffeine jolt.  So relaxing and so me.



Do you have a Saturday morning ritual?