Spring makes me want to dig in the dirt and make green things grow. I begin to picture a fire escape container garden with trellising bean vines and hanging tomato plants. But two things prevent me from making this yearly urban-farming fantasy a reality: my tiny New York City apartment gets no direct sunlight, and I’m terribly absentminded. So I water my low-light houseplants and leave the food growing to the pros.
Plus, the best part about buying fresh produce is chatting up the farmers at the farmers’ market. My neighborhood market draws the same group of upstate New York and eastern Pennsylvania farmers every year, and they become a part of our community. The Morgiewicz family supplies the majority of my vegetables from April through Thanksgiving, and the folks Breezy Hill Orchard from rock the best stone fruit I’ve ever put in a pie.
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