That is one beautiful, robust clove of garlic pictured above. It came from a small local market where I do a lot of my shopping. It stored well down to the last piece, no shriveling or mold spots, and cooked up beautifully with all the rich umami flavor I expect from an honest clove.

The garlic was imported. The sign above said “IMPORTED GARLIC” but no information on the country of origin was included.

So I started looking around for someone to ask. The store is run by a bunch of guys who love the business I give them but do not always have time or inclination for all my questions.

Now I am not easy. I want to know everything about everything. That’s me. A real pain in the ass. So when I shop for food I am always attentive to managing a constant tension between my desire to know and someone else’s desire not to be bothered.

And my observation over the years is that guys who work in the food business usually do not appreciate curious ladies with questions, unless they work at Whole Foods. But I was not shopping Whole Foods that day.

My first try was the young man attending to scallions. His English was at best somewhat broken but he understood my question, just smiled when I asked if he knew where the garlic came from and he just said ” Nooooo … ”

One of the managers would probably would have known was elbow deep in piles of delivery papers so I decided not to interrupt.

Then I saw one of the principles, usually tolerant of my insatiable curiosity. As I approached he took a quick turn from my path into the refrigerator storage room. So I gave up, paid for my purchases, and left the store garlic in hand.

In the parking lot behind the store is a holding shed for produce to wait before it goes into the store for sale. I was parked near the holding shed so I put my bags in the car, went back to door to the shed, and looked in.

No one there. But I could see lots of boxes. I know the country of origin always appears on shipping crates or boxes. So I went in and started poking around and I found it!

Printed clearly on one of the boxes were these two words: GARLIC Argentina. No other indicators like organic or fair trade or nonGMO, but I had my country of origin.

But I got to thinking on the drive home, is it my right to know? Where do you draw the line between frivolous curiosity and legitimate need? Sometimes it is critically important. If there is a recall for example, where that cantaloupe or peach came from becomes critically important. Clearly a legitimate need.

And then there is that very long list of other nice to know things like fair trade or nonGMO or organic or heirloom. These labels are good marketing tools, but do they fall into the category of legitimate need?

Thinking through the issue on the drive home, I conceded that it’s not really my right to know unless it is a safety issue.

Developing a good relationship with your customers has encourage many vendors to make it their business to answer questions. That is why I have such good relations with many of the Whole Foods staff. But this particular store I shop at does not have that kind of business. It’s a family affair and run by people who have been in the produce for two generations. Twice a week they go to the Hunts Point distribution center and refresh the stock. I shop there because they are expert at buying produce. And for perks, they bring in blood oranges from Sicily in the winter and green figs from California in the late summer.

Besides there is more than one way to discover a country of origin. I had my answer and came home with a great garlic. So I have decided to cut them slack on this country of origin issue.

snap peas, French breakfast radishes, carrots

Just in the Catskills for the weekend so not much time to cook. We usually go out for dinner before going back to the city, but there is always lunch. And I was in the mood for a surprise.

It’s early summer in the Hudson Valley and the growing season has begun. We picked up some cheddar cheese, crusty bread, and these radishes, carrots, and snap peas so small and tender you can eat them in the shell.

The little carrots needed a good scrubbing, but the radishes and peas were much easier to wash. I arranged them on a little plate with the red on the top, the orange on the bottom and the green in the middle. Really nice presentation.

Living in France introduced me to eating little radishes with butter and salt as an appetizer. My radishes from market were not that small and delicate, but tasted pretty good all the same. The carrots are actually mature despite their small size. The softest and most delicate of the lot were the little green snap peas.

You just never know what you are going to find at the farmers market.

A lot of folks would rather shop familiar settings. You know the predictable kind of layout where the choices are available all year round. Shopping these stores actually permits list making. People can decide what mood they are in, decide what they want to eat, write out the list, and now with technology punch it and have it all delivered to their door. As for me I love to be surprised.

The modern supermarket is truly a miraculous phenomenon. But surprises are something you will not find at a super market. What I really love about shopping these farmer’s markets is I can almost always find something I have never seen before. Like those dwarf carrots.

My idea of fun is arriving at the market with an open mind, wandering around and picking up what looks interesting, bringing it home, and then deciding how to put it all together.

Just like I did with my early summer medley of radish, carrot, and green snap pea. I love surprises.

photo | gourmet metrics

Tuesday was the night I picked up my first box. Never been a member before so I did not know what to expect. But I arrived on time with about 10 other people and we walked into a room with about 50 boxes stacked on two tables.

“Pick a box, empty it into your bags, fold the box, and put it over there with the other boxes. It’s really easy.” And it was so I got home within 15 minutes with over 4 pounds of greens. Now that is what I call healthy. It’s also what I call work. Spinach, Baby Bok Choi, Lettuce Mix, Arugula and Red Kale to wash, trim, and eat before the next pick up.

That night I washed and trimmed enough lettuce and arugula to put together a large salad. Added tuna, some small cannelloni, some tomato, scallions, my own vinaigrette and served supper within 30 minutes. Last night was more time consuming. Sorting through the lettuce mix and arugula took some time but we have enough salad mix ready to go through Monday. For supper that night I steamed spinach to serve with a locally caught filet of summer flounder picked up on the way home from work.

Today I am going to think about the rest of the load. Kale chips are trendy, so I think I will give them a try. I mean how hard can it be? Kale, olive oil, salt, bake in slow oven till done. What else do I need to know?

The kale is much prettier than the chips. Paper-thin, darkened, crumpled so no before and after pictures posted. My technique needs some refinement, but the chips are edible and now I know for my next batch to use a little less oil. When I try something new I go for edible. Refinement can come later.

Now all that’s left is my baby bok. How does this sound: small piece of fish, ancient grains, shiitake, scallion, and the baby bok. Sounds like a plan to me.