Wednesday is market day. The day I go into the city and attempt to cram as much as I can into my granny cart, insulated backpack and various bags which dangle from my person. I ought to know by now, that when I over-stuff, wackiness ensues. Once at the market, the urge to buy everything I need in one outing prevails . Some days I manage to make it home, purchases unscathed. Other days I am not so lucky. Today was one of those days.
I left the house this morning with a seemingly reasonable list of purchases at Union Square Market and Whole Foods. The catch was that I needed to buy a bunch of plants for an afternoon gardening playdate and also to gussy up the yard for tomorrow's "Jewels In My Garden" Party,* for which I had even planned to prepare homemade clotted cream.
I spent about two hours doing my marketing, and was pleased that my plan to buy the plants last had worked out. I even managed to get the flat of plants to perch precariously atop the cart** so that I could manage to schlep everything home. One of my last stops before the plants was Ronny Brook Farm, where I bought the Camembert and heavy cream for my clotted cream. I was too lazy to remove the backpack from my shoulders so I just tossed the glass bottle of cream and the cheese into a flimsy bag, which dangled from my arm.
As I slowly and daintily (not) made my way along 14th street, I basked in the sunny day and in the fact that I had done all of my errands. As I smiled to myself, one of the bags slipped from my arm and went crashing to the sidewalk. Wouldn't you know it was the one with the glass bottle of heavy cream?!! So there I stood, stunned, as the heavy cream seeped through the bag and all over the sidewalk. Two ladies, one younger, one older stopped to assist me but it became clear I was beyond assistance. What is to be done with a bag of dripping with heavy cream and full of broken glass anyway? The older lady seemed to think that I could cram the soggy bag into a tiny plastic bag but that wouldn't work. The younger lady agreed that I had no choice but to toss the bag (and it was a favorite) and the whole soggy mess into a trash can and get on with it. I did manage to salvage some art supplies I had purchased for Izzy (cream covered tape and glue..perhaps soap and water would help) and then I simply carried on.
Well all was not over yet. I crossed the street and bumped my way into the Path Station, mainly mourning the loss of that luscious heavy cream, since, after all, clotted cream cannot be made with supermarket cream. I also pondered the fate of the Camembert, imagining it covered in heavy cream..
Back to reality, once in Jersey City, I tried to be as careful as ever but I was certainly eager to get home, as every part of my body ached from the excess baggage. One wrong bump and my plants would overturn, I thought to myself. Wouldn't you know that is exactly what happened. Dirt and plants were scattered near the Light Rail station. I did salvage them and they are now safely planted in our backyard.
Oh and the Camembert? Well I found it in another bag and, no surprise, it was unusually soft. I tossed it in the fridge, thinking it might firm up a bit...Plain to see, many hours outside of the fridge did not help it. Izzy was brave enough to sample it and said, "It looks like cream but it tastes sour." Too bad because it is generally a soft, creamy delight.
* If I failed to invite you and you live around here and would like to join, email me and I will give you the details!
**Please note that I do not recommend this mode of transport if you have another one!
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