Scotch + Soba: The 'Old' and the Beautiful

Local markets are a kind of moral and spiritual sanctuary. They momentarily absolve my neglect of local farmers. They cleanse my body of the preservatives and/or hormones now common in most food. They renew my social connection to local community. They give me free cider.

E and I managed to track down our new market—a five-minute walk from our place—after a short 7 months of living here (her, not me). The place has incredible energy. Vendors smile. The space was open and sunlit. Patrons were legitimately happy to be alive. It seemed a rare oasis amidst a sometimes disenchanted world full of grinches. Like me.

Conversely, I was assaulted by an old person at our regular commercial grocery store (Delhaize):

I was pouring over my many options of something unnecessary when I saw a woman approaching out of the corner of my eye. Cloaked in fur and armed with an impressively aggressive disregard of my existence, my elderly friend parked her cart in front of my line of sight, then reached through my legs to procure her items. I was basically paralyzed. Undaunted however, I shuffled slightly forward in front of her cart and resigned to a standoff until she acknowledged me.

She won - after an agonizing two seconds.

I hustled dutifully out of her way and lost a little bit at life.

Thank you local market on at 60A Rue Des Tanneurs. And thank you for this delightful Ginger-Lemon Apple Cider (see my improvised recipe below).