Speaking of garage sales, I visited one today. The lady running it called it an estate sale. First thing I saw was the FREE box, where I successfully scored a deep, heavy oatmeal bowl. Someone must have gotten sick of looking at the patriotic face of the oatmeal guy smiling on the front so much so they just gave it away for nothing. Also found a silver, sleek, tiny pocket knife that I will keep in my purse.
My mom taught me about the free box at garage sales. Last summer she pulled out a lime green, metal monkey from a box of free toys for children. Only when you turned this monkey’s arm down 45 degrees, its head lights up with a flame of fire. Its a lighter.
At the garage sale today, the lady showed me her sister and brother-in-law’s invention; plastic plates that had a hole on the end for you to put your drink on. I could use them for a year she says and then…um
Is that Green Bay Packers, I ask pointing to the red set with the G in the middle.
Well its red she said, so I don’t think so.
But that’s the G, I thought to myself.
Lunch was a short trip to a sad little farmer’s market. I think when there are more people in a given area, quality events are harder to come by. Lunch was a delicious dish from Afghanistan, called a Bolani. Even though it looked like a boring quesadilla I might have microwaved as dinner in my high school days , it was like nothing I had ever tasted. The bread was flat yet fluffy and the potato inside was mixed with incredibly aromatic and savory spices. The sauce was a sweet/spicy chutney that capped the deep flavor of the Bolani with a tangy twinge of the tongue.
Afterwards it indeed felt great to sit down when I was all finished to a dinner made by my one and only.
What a treat, and now I’m beat.
Next posting will be a recipe, Chicken Bread & Onions (Imsakhan).