Photograph by John Kingman.

Vos macht a Yid?

I went to a small Farmer’s Market in Riverdale yesterday and there was a stand that caught my attention. Three young people from a Yiddish farm upstate New York. They didn’t have much to sell but they had a good story.

Here’s a look by Sam Frizell writing for Gothamist:

“It’s different to be Jewish in English than it is to be Jewish in Yiddish,” says Tsipore Angelson, 29, who grew up in a secular family and spent several years in China. Earlier this summer she learned Yiddish for a week on the farm and comes back to help out sometimes. She still speaks Yiddish at home with friends she made on the farm.

“The whole culture lies in the language,” she continues. “This is a vital culture that didn’t die. This is a language that young people want to be a part of.”

The Wife and I schlepped down to Union Square late Saturday morning and were happy we made the trip.

The market was gorgeous, flowers selling like hotcakes on the count of Mother’s Day.

And ramps! I found a guy, that’s all he was selling. I figured I’d buy a bunch and pickle the suckers. Which is what I did yesterday.

Friday night, went to Eataly for bread and prosciutto; Saturday, the Farmer’s Market.

Phil Hughes didn’t look to be horseshit today, his fastball was hitting 93-94 mph and he broke off a few biting curve balls, but everything was up and a couple of home runs by the Angels was enough to put the Yankees in a hole from which they could not climb out. C.J. Wilson looked relaxed and has an easy, appealing manner. When his center fielder made a nice catch, the replay showed Wilson break out in a wide, guileless smile. Oh, and he pitched well, too, mixing the soft stuff with a tight cutter in to the righties (after hitting the ball hard yesterday, Alex Rodriguez hit three weak ground balls against Wilson this afternoon). The Yankees left nine men on base.

This was one to forget even though it was a lovely day in the Bronx. The only thing worth noting was how well David Phelps pitched in relief. He gave up a run on one hit–a solo home run by Vernon Wells–worked quickly and threw the ball with confidence. His performance over 5.1 innings was worth savoring and it was nice to see him receive applause when he walked off the mound with two outs in the 9th.

Final score: Angels 7, Yanks 1.

Instead of dwelling on this one, check out these pictures I took this morning at the Union Square Farmer’s Market. The wife and I headed down early and the greens were amazing. So, this weekend gives salads, tuscan kale, and enough ramps to pickle.

And ramps! First week of ramps.

They’ll only be around a few more weeks. Time to get ’em while they are around.

I found these at the farmer’s market a few weeks back. At first I thought they were baby tomatillos but they are called huskberries. Beautiful, bright color. Unwrapping a bunch of them is tedious but also like opening little gifts.

They have the most peculiar taste. I can’t do justice to the flavor, they are  a cross between a cherry tomato and a gooseberry. It is a little strong for me so I’ve been using them in salads along with regular cherry tomatoes and they provide a nice accent. I spoke to a chef last week who said she’d dip them in chocolate. Why not?

Fun.

‘Tis the season.

At the famrer’s market this morning.

The farmer’s market wins again. Really, it makes life in the city even better than it already is.

Last week, I wrote about a wonderful Tuscan kale salad I had at Resto.

According to someone in the know, Nevia No, a greenmarket goddess, has the goods at the 14th street farmer’s market.

Ya hoid.

[Photo Credit: New York Magazine]