Sunday mornings have a lot going for them.  First our walk is so much more relaxed, it’s also longer and sprinkled with the sounds and smells that can only happen on Sunday morning when people usually have no schedule.  When it’s a bit cooler, like today, there are more windows open and we can hear what’s going on in many of the kitchens we pass.  Is there a more distinct sound than a cast iron skillet being put on the stove top?  Or the tea kettle whistling?  Dishes clattering, flatware in a bunch being placed (ok a bit more that placed) on the table?  The smell of bacon frying, toasted bread, coffee.  By the time we get home the girls and I are starving.

I relax with my own coffee and catch up on the NY Times Magazine, check Post Secret for the newest postcards, and then think about the farmer’s market.  Today I met up with Muriel and Martina and then Kathy at our favorite farmer’s market.  What a great way to spend the morning, sampling the cheeses and pizza’s and vinegars and shopping with your eyes.  What’s good today?  What do I feel like eating this week?  Where are my farmer’s market staples; the fresh mozzarella, the half loaf of sliced Italian bread, the strawberries while they are still around.  This week there were figs, one of my favorites.

Bring it all home and begin the cleaning and storing.  Cut up the plum tomatoes to roast with gorgonzola and panko bread crumbs and a drizzle of olive oil.  Put the peaches in a brown bag to ripen, wash the strawberries and blueberries and figs and try to save a few for the week.

Since the oven is already going why not make those almost ready for the heap bananas into muffins for the week?  Soon everything is put away and the house smells like the bounty of a Sunday morning. Love that.