Expertly Handled

Summer invites me to poke, press and squeeze.


I’m talking about fruits and vegetables, of course. 

I don't hesitate to sniff a tomato, knock on a watermelon, and peel back the top layers of an ear of corn to check out what's underneath. 

I think I inherited this affinity for luscious produce from my grandmother who loved nothing better than stopping at a roadside stand for fresh cucumbers, corn, tomatoes and a peach or two.

So it's practically ingrained in me that every week I park my cart in front of the fruit counter to peruse the strawberries, blueberries and raspberries, all neatly lined up in containers at the grocery store. 

{It's not a roadside farm stand, but it'll have to do.}

I systematically rearrange the containers to inspect them before choosing the most ripe and delicious looking berries of the bunch. 

Sometimes I can’t decide because they all look so good. 

And I get a little annoyed if someone is behind me, waiting for me to move away from the berries before I’m completely settled on what I want.

So I can’t quite imagine not being able to choose my own fruits and vegetables. 

But I learned produce-protocol is a little more regimented in Rome than it is at home.

During my foodie tour this spring, I visited Rome’s oldest outdoor market, Campo de' Fiori.

Umbrellas were sprawled across the piazza, with vendors selling produce, spices, flowers and an assortment of colorful kitchen wares and cheap souvenirs.

The tour leader, Elizabeth, gave us strict instructions not to touch any of the fruits and vegetables at the stands. 

She said if we did, we’d be sternly reprimanded {and quite possibly yelled at} by the vendors. She told us shopping in Rome is different from grocery stores and farmer's markets in the U.S. that welcome buyers to peruse, touch and select what they want.

Instead Roman shoppers tell the sellers what they would like, and the seller chooses the produce for them. 

And don't even try to point out which strawberry or tomato or onion you want. You get what you get.

I found this puzzling, limiting and more than a little disturbing. 

What if my idea of a great tomato isn't the same as the vendor's? Why is someone I don't know in charge of my fruits and vegetables?

That night over dinner I asked Elizabeth to further enlighten me about these produce traditions.

She said you first have to build a relationship with your favorite produce stand seller and over time as you return to their stands to buy from them again, they’ll start giving you the best of what they have. 

She said it took repeated visits and many weeks before she stopped finding the smashed and bruised fruit at the bottom of her bag or the unripened vegetable that couldn’t possibly be eaten for that night’s dinner. 

One day when she opened her bag and saw the plump, ripe and juicy fruits and vegetables, she knew she’d at last earned their prize produce.

It’s about building trust. They're the experts, after all.

I'm not sure I could ever get used to giving control of my fruit and vegetable-selection to someone else, but cheese is an entirely different story.

The Campo de' Fiori cheese-man ruled his counter with dozens of delicious varieties. 

He offered me a piece of his Pecorino cheese dappled with black peppercorns. It was rich and creamy and spicy, and I've been craving it ever since.

I think I'd absolutely trust him to choose my cheese anytime.

{A little note on the photos: they're all from Rome, most from Campo de' Fiori.}

I'm having coffee with my friends at Holley Gerth's place at Coffee for your Heart.