Don't try asking for spaghetti and meatballs or other Italo-American favorites or Fiorenza will unleash, as she did on the website video, an expletive so coarse (though very common in Italian street talk) that I can't reprint it here, even in the Italian original; some maybe offended; I laughed out loud at her directness.
In Huatulco, Oaxaca, one afternoon last month, I spotted a little woman serving Styrofoam cups full of something to passersby. My chow-dar lit up: this is exactly the sort of thing I like to see when I travel: local food prepared on the street for the locals.
I ordered a small basket of catfish at Dino's and it was…fantastic. White fish in general has come to bore me (I don't need to see a tilapia ever again), but this white-ish fish had fluffy flesh and a definite flavor (rather than a lot of generic whitefish that tastes hardly of anything).
Last winter, I did a series of entries on this blog entitled Root Cellar Diary. I started writing this continuing entries in late autumn and I finished in early spring. I figured my root cellar was out of operation for the summer months, when all kinds of local fruits and vegetables would be available for enjoying fresh. I was wrong.
One of the best things about farmers' markets everywhere – and Oak Park Farmers' Market specifically – is that small farmers who come to these markets understand that people are willing to spend a little extra to try something new. We know we're supposed to eat our vegetables, and we're always looking for new ones to keep the plate interesting.