My Vegetable Love Should Grow

A new enterprise, the Mercado Buen Provecho burst upon the Pátzcuaro food firmament like a nova, one day before the Fourth of July.

It was a great beginning for what promises to be a mecca for gastronomes and foodies alike who crave fresh produce of varieties hitherto unknown or rarely seen in Pátzcuaro.

Lisa, one of the principal movers behind this mercado/tianguis told me that for their first day, they hadn't brought everything that they might have. To my eyes, it was still a dazzling selection of beautiful salad greens, white eggplants, two sorts of earthy turnips and herbs; as well as hen's eggs and freshly killed ducks. There was also a table of specialty fruits, including the fantasy pitahaya, giant Italian lemons like small footballs, Persian limes (not so rare, but excellent, and most tempting of all, red round hothouse tomatoes, just a day or so short of perfect ripeness.*

Panadero Ivo's bakery table had a attractive selection of whole grain and seed breads to sell, but the packages of plump cinnamon rolls were selling like the proverbial hotcakes.

I had to restrain myself from buying more than we could use. I focused on vegetables: mixed salad greens plus arugula. Since all the salad greens were priced the same (I wasn't paying close attention to the prices), mix-and-match was easy.

I also bought some super nice, purple blushed, young turnips with great greens attached. There were red turnips as well, which, I was told were sweeter and had little or no "bite". But as I like "bite", I chose the purple ones.

A branch of fragrant Lemon Verbena or "cedrón, for tea; and a handful of basil, sweet basil, not the small leafed variety common in Michoacán, completed my herb purchases. There was also very robust branches of rosemary, and amazingly fragrant Lavender!

I bought two dragon fruit pitahayas from the second vendor's table, plus over a kilo of medium tomatoes, and one Italian lemon, just to fulfill my lust for lemon lemon LEMON! We rarely can get sour yellow lemon here.

The next morning, we tried one pitahaya for breakfast. It was easy to peel, despite its fearsome apparance, and the vivid vermilion-purple flesh was pleasantly light and tartly refreshing.

Although the baker's table held attractive products, I didn't buy any as I have much home baked bread of my own.
Then came the reckoning: la cuenta. I paid up; it was not cheap, but to me, well worth it for specialty produce of top quality.

When I returned to Hacienda Enmedio de Nada, I laid out all my purchases and took a few photos ** of them.

The following day, inspired by a sample of Braised Turnips I'd tasted at the Mercado, I made my own version.

I first coarsely cut several strips of smoked bacon. Thick sliced would be best, but I used what I had. This was set to slowly frying in a large non-stick skillet. The greens had been throughly picked over (they were in very good shape) and washed in several changes of cold water. They were then cut very coarsely into lengths. The tougher stem toward the root was discarded.

One onion, sliced, was put into the skillet, then very carefully, I put in the greens. It's important to leave some moisture on them. In fact, I added about 3/4 cu of water.
Salt and pepper are added. Go lightly on the salt.

When they begin to simmer, I turned down the heat and covered the pan.

The turnip roots themselves had been peeled and sliced into thick rounds. They went into the pan before the apples.

Next, I cut an unpeeled Granny Smith apple into small chunks, then as the greens began to get tender, added the apple pieces. Next, a tablespoon of white sugar sprinkled over all. I let this caramelize a bit, then added a "glug" of cider vinegar.

At that point, I replenished the liquid with about 1 cup of beef stock, made in this case from Bovril Beef Concentrate and a cup or so of hot water. That is the reason to be very easy on the salt at the start.

After a while, when the vegetables become tender, it was time to check the seasoning.

This was a wonderful, earthy, hearty dish, which went very well with the brown beans I'd cooked the day before and some freshly made Southern Style Buttermilk Cornbread.

*Last night, we tried a couple of the beautiful tomatoes. They were a little disappointing in that despite their brilliant red color and perfect conformation, they lacked any sort of that unmistakeable, sharp fresh tomato fragrance. The taste was o.k. but not what we were hoping for. I found that when I sliced them, they had good acidity, but were improved by sprinkling the slices with salt and a little sugar, and letting them repose about 10 minutes. Best of all, there a much better texture than the watery, pale red balls sold for tomates bolas in the supermarkets here.

** While at the mercado, I acceded to a request to not photograph within the mercado, so that all my photos were taken afterwards, in my own kitchen, at home. I'm hoping that the ban on photography will one day be relaxed, so that the mercado can be shown at its best to others.