A year ago today my dad passed away, which is sill unbelievable to me. My dad was an excellent cook and an awesome baker and he made homemade bread every week of my life that I can remember. He worked in a bakery when he was young, and never tired of telling everyone about the “junk” used to make sliced, processed white bread.
Picking fruit in the desert in the dead of summer? Crazy, right? That’s what I thought, too. Prickly pear fruit are abundant in the Phoenix desert and ready for the picking. The reward of a prickly pear margarita at the end of a harvest was a great summertime surprise!
In the past I’ve blamed the birds on my failed attempts at a successful garden. Not this year.
Finally. A Saturday without (too many) errands! That means taking advantage of getting to one of the local farmers markets.