When I was a young child, my mother would take me to the Farmer’s Market with her in Houston. I always looked forward to those trips, because I saw things that amazed me. Whole cow heads staring at me from meat cases. a pile of jalpenos so high I couldn’t jump over them if I tried. Tall towers of stacked wild plums, peaches, and giant watermelons that put ours today to shame. Back then, the watermelon man kept them ice cold, and would plug the melon so you could taste it before you bought it.
Mom would buy fresh okra, purple hull peas, corn on the cob, tomatoes, green onions. We would go home and I started my job- shelling the peas. I’d sit on the front porch with a colander full of peas, thinking I would never see the end of them. Once I finished, mom put them in a pot with a piece of salt pork and a ham hock, covered it all with water and put them on to cook. Even today, that essence takes me back. Then I would start shucking the corn. But for the ham hock and salt pork, it was a meatless day and it was always one of my favorite meals.
piping hot cornbread, butter
fried okra and peas
©2019 Linda Lee Lyberg
dVerse Poets Pub: Poetics To Market, To Market!