The farmer's market brings out the primordial huntress within me. (I know that I am not alone in this confession.) Around 9 AM on a Saturday, japanese asparagus, sorrel, currants, and nettles all strike me as ideal prey. That afternoon, with the baby napping, I use a small about of my purchase for a salad or soup. If I somehow slept very well the previous night, I might even make a small batch of cupcakes.
And, then, the baby wakes up and the whirlwind of life returns. In its wake, I forget my prey and the excitement of my purchase. By Monday, I have planned how I shall use this delicacy for 10 meals (Lunches and Dinners). By Tuesday, guilt sets in. I should have turned these prizes into something that involves the word confit, frisee, sugo, trio, etc. By Wednesday, I have returned home from work, hungry, and tired. That sorrel, nettles, etc, looks like everything else in the fridge--not mystical but instead useful. And, that is the sweet moment, when I create something perfectly delcious, simple and perfect.
These concoction usually involve what ever is left in the fridge. Cooked pasta, roasted vegetables, 1/2 cans of legumes. And, as hunger is the best chef, or whatever, the results have always struck me as perfect. Take for example, sorrel. I purchased it because I had read something about it at Modern Beet. From it I created the most lovely salad. One, that I am actually still thinking about. I took left over cellophane noodles and tossed them with a spicy roasted pepper viniagrette, sauteed julienned vegetables, quick wilted sorrel and then placed that upon raw sorrel. The result was delicious.
And, then there was a sorrel soup. Create a faux stock by combining hummous and warm water. Simmer and add veggies and sorrel. Blend with an immersion blender. To this velvety soup, add canned beans (in this case three bean mix). If desired, top with a chiffonade of raw sorrel. (I did not.)
From this one bag of sorrel, I also made a sorrel omlette and another more mundane salad (or lettuce, sorrel and cucumbers.) So, while it is not quite like eating a wild boar from snout to tail, one bag of veg from the market can offer the chef some interesting prompts to the imagination. And if somehow you made it to Friday night having forgotten it, hell, there is always the compost bin.