{"id":1719,"date":"2005-09-22T03:59:00","date_gmt":"2005-09-22T03:59:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/elitemporaryblog.wordpress.com\/2005\/09\/22\/bringing-home-the-greenmarket-goods"},"modified":"2015-09-24T03:54:16","modified_gmt":"2015-09-24T03:54:16","slug":"bringing-home-the-greenmarket-goods","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/orangette.net\/2005\/09\/bringing-home-the-greenmarket-goods\/","title":{"rendered":"Bringing home the (Greenmarket) goods"},"content":{"rendered":"

I owe you an apology, dear reader. For the past week, I\u2019ve cruelly paraded before you a small smorgasbord of foods that, unless you happen to find yourself within the New York metropolitan area, you may never eat. If you\u2019re anything like me, this could be cause for irritation, agitation, or even boredom; if I can\u2019t run out and taste it\u2014or better yet, create it at home\u2014I often find my desire to read about it severely curbed. Yes, learning about new or exotic edibles can be inspiring, both in terms of hunger and curiosity, but when all is said and done, reading about faraway, unobtainable foods can feel a bit like having a crush on a movie star: if I can\u2019t get my hands on it, why bother?
<\/strong>
All of this is just to say that when Brandon and I went to the Union Square Greenmarket<\/a>, we went with you in mind. It\u2019s all well and good to wax poetic about juice-heavy heirloom tomatoes, peppery pale pink radishes, baby heads of fennel, elephant heart plums<\/a>, and early ginger-gold apples, but such precious, prissy produce does not travel, literally or figuratively. In the interest of instant gratification for you, hungry reader, I wanted something sturdy and suitcase- or postal service-ready, a transportable taste of New York<\/strong>.<\/p>\n

It was a Wednesday morning, almost noon, and a prime hour for public consumption of alcohol\u2014or rather, sipping samples from plastic Dixie cups at the <\/strong>Ch\u00e2teau Renaissance Wine Cellars<\/strong><\/a> stand<\/strong>. We stepped up to the checkered tablecloth and were met by French-born winemaker Patrice DeMay, who drives weekly into Manhattan from his vineyard in the western Finger Lakes region. Ch\u00e2teau Renaissance is best known for its champagnes<\/a> (or, if we\u2019re going to get technical, \u201csparkling wines<\/em>,\u201d I suppose), made using the DeMay family\u2019s 400-year-old Loire Valley recipe. Brandon is an ardent fan of the \u201cnaturel\u201d variety, as well as a concoction called the \u201cpear sparkle<\/a>,\u201d a fizzy, not-too-sweet blend of champagne and one of the vineyard\u2019s seasonal fruit wine<\/a>s. My devotion lies with this last, a line of delicate, well-balanced wines made from 100% whole fruit\u2014apricot to blackberry, elderberry, and rhubarb\u2014and fermented with naturally occurring wild yeasts. <\/strong>
<\/strong>
\"\"<\/a>
Perfect as an aperitif or alongside dessert, Ch\u00e2teau Renaissance\u2019s jewel-toned fruit wines come \"\"<\/a>in tall, sleek bottles that tuck nicely inside a suitcase or\u2014better yet\u2014ship quite handily from the Finger Lakes with a single phone call. In June, I brought home a bottle of strawberry-rhubarb\u2014light and bright on the tip of the tongue, floral, silky, aromatic. This time I snagged a deep purply-blue bottle of blueberry and a second of apricot, a high-pitched, ethereal liquid version of the sweet, meaty fruit<\/strong>. Patrice handed them to me in a bag with \u201cUncork New York<\/em>!\u201d written loudly across its belly, and you know, I don\u2019t mind if I do.<\/p>\n

So much sipping calls for something solid and savory, and so Brandon steered me to another market must-do: Martin\u2019s Pretzels<\/strong><\/a>.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>
A fixture of New York\u2019s greenmarkets since 1982, these plump, shatteringly crunchy<\/strong> pretzels are handmade by Mennonite women in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. Deep brown with a light sheen, these \u00fcber-snacks<\/strong> are freckled with salt and filled with uneven air holes like a good rustic bread, the happy result of hand-rolling. They\u2019re remarkably toasty, slightly nutty, and made from nothing but flour, water, yeast, and salt. If you\u2019re in the know, you\u2019ll step up to the stand and ask for a bag of \u201cbrokens,\u201d
\"\"<\/a>sold on the cheap in dollar increments and not one bit the worse for their less-than-perfect appearance. But if you\u2019re more than a step\u2014or a city\u2014away, you can order<\/a> Martin\u2019s Pretzels online* and have them shipped to your door. I may well have to do so myself, since we nearly demolished my supply on the subway ride back uptown. And by the time I landed in Seattle a few days later, all I had were crumbs from a few itty-bitty broken bits.<\/p>\n

But I can console myself\u2014and you too\u2014with the knowledge that at least some <\/em>faraway<\/a>, five-boroughs<\/a> foodstuffs can be delivered to my doorstep any day I please. Now, if only the same were true of a certain New Yorker\u2014or, hell, while we\u2019re at it, a movie star or two.<\/p>\n

*Sadly, it appears that the brokens are not available via mail order. For that, you\u2019ll just have to show up in person. Consider it yet another reason to visit New York.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I owe you an apology, dear reader. For the past week, I\u2019ve cruelly paraded before you a small smorgasbord of foods that, unless you happen to find yourself within the New York metropolitan area, you may never eat. If you\u2019re anything like me, this could be cause for irritation, agitation, or even boredom; if I can\u2019t run out and taste it\u2014or better yet, create it at home\u2014I often find my desire to read about it severely curbed. Yes, learning about new or exotic edibles can be inspiring, both in terms of hunger and curiosity, but when all is said and done, reading about faraway, unobtainable foods can feel a bit like having a crush on a movie star: if I…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nBringing home the (Greenmarket) goods | Orangette<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"http:\/\/orangette.net\/2005\/09\/bringing-home-the-greenmarket-goods\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Bringing home the (Greenmarket) goods | Orangette\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"I owe you an apology, dear reader. For the past week, I\u2019ve cruelly paraded before you a small smorgasbord of foods that, unless you happen to find yourself within the New York metropolitan area, you may never eat. If you\u2019re anything like me, this could be cause for irritation, agitation, or even boredom; if I can\u2019t run out and taste it\u2014or better yet, create it at home\u2014I often find my desire to read about it severely curbed. 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