Isn't This Quaint?

I like to pretend, when I'm on my own turf, that I'm somewhere far away, in a different country for example. When we're travelling, everything seems picturesque and camera-worthy. We rhapsodize over pastries piled up in shop windows, angels in the architecture, fruits and vegetables in a farmer's market.

Well, we've got farmer's markets in Massachusetts, too. This one is across the street from the Boston Public Library. The wares were every bit as tempting as the ones I saw a few months ago on the banks of the Saône in Lyon, a convenient spot for Paul Bocuse to pick up a few items for the Brasserie de l'Ouest.

I bought an organic apple for fifty cents and ate it as I wandered around the Boston market. I wasn't going straight home, or I would have stocked up on a few things. Wouldn't a bunch of these sunflowers have looked beautiful on my blue kitchen table?