The Mushroom Day Trip

Saturday we buckled up The Bairn and headed to the Annapolis Valley, one of my favorite places in Nova Scotia. It's a fruit-growing region and I just love one of the college towns down there. It's pretty and covered in fruit stands and full of people wearing babies on their chests and eating homemade pasta at the farmers' market. When I tell Steve I want to live there, he informs me that we can't because it's full of snobs and I inform him that I am all set to be one of those snobs. Sign. Me. Up.

I've never seen such a great farmers' market.  We bought tomatillo and slow food Italian tomato seeds.  I had Moroccan chicken on quinoa and gelato from the vendors, and Steve ate a huge, sloppy pork sandwich with sauerkraut and a potato pancake from some Germans before indulging in a big glass bottle of unpasteurized chocolate milk.  I ate my quinoa on a wooden box while I chatted about midwives and birth experiences with someone wearing a baby, and practically every single person who caught a glimpse of The Bairn came over to speak to him about what a nice and smart and handsome boy he is (oh, he IS).

Then we rushed off to Steve's mushroom farm visit.  I stayed in the car with our sleeping baby while Steve learned the difference between regular brown mushrooms and portobellos (they let the portobellos grow longer).

We bought 2 pounds of mushroom seconds at the farm and have been eating them every day since.  Steve made an amazing mushroom sauce Sunday night and served it over the spinach and cheese ravioli we made and froze several weeks ago.  Woo, baby.  If you'd tasted it, you would want to marry Steve too.  I'm pretty sure that if we offered it to the people of the Annapolis Valley, they would welcome us with open arms.

This is not a particularly appealing picture.  If I were a food blogger I would spruce it up with some parsley on top and a fancy salad and better photography skills but as it is we just wolfed it down like this and appreciated the deliciousness.