I just went to the Fresh Market for my lunch break to pick up one of their yummy pimento cheese sandwiches. They make the best pimento cheese EVAH. Yes, even better than yours. I’m sorry to break it to you. They put something in there, like maybe heroin, or possibly LSD, but something that totally makes me happy to be eating it. I have actually dreamt about their pimento cheese. It’s THAT GOOD.
But in general? I’m just terribly in love with place. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: The Fresh Market makes me want to be healthy. It makes me want to eat fresh veggies and fruit. It makes me want to lookup what I would do with “Freshly Ground Sage” because in the bag it is simply inspiring. I want to be the person that buys fresh herbs. And then cooks with them. I don’t even know people who do that, and I don’t even know how to pronounce most of the herbs on the rack. But dammit – I want to buy them! And use them! In something healthy.
They have nineteen trillion different variations of rice. What is the difference? I don’t know and I don’t care. I just want to try it all. And their broccoli display? Is like a work of art, stacked into the ice in a perfect little mountain of green. It’s fantastic. There are bags of pasta that say “Al Dente” and I have no idea what that means – but it looks fancy and classy and like something I totally need to buy. The pears are wearing sweaters and the cheese is freshly grated. I’ve never been a food snob in my life, but this places makes me want to be one because everything is just so damn pretty. I don’t even like steaks, but their meat department makes me drool.
I don’t know what it is with this place, but every time I go I find myself buying things I don’t know how to cook. But then – I go home – and LEARN how to cook it. Do you see how it works? The Fresh Market is turning me into the woman of my husband’s dreams. Next thing you know? I’ll be buying an avocado and making my own guacamole.
But not yet – because the Fresh Market sells the yummiest fresh guacamole. And yes, it’s better than yours too. I’m sorry.
(P.S. – Go wish Elizabeth a Happy 40th. All she wants is 40 comments and she’s almost there!)