(Image credit: Tara Donne)
Where I live in the Catskills, in upstate New York, there is a glut of exceptional, specialized food. And if you have a cooler and a car, I could easily fill it 10 times over. But these picks are designed to be slightly more travel-ready.
Some are edible, some are not, but they all deliver some small taste of the area I call home.
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What did you do the last time you bought a head of cauliflower? Steam it? Grind it into rice? Puree it into a heap of hope that nobody will notice it’s not mashed potatoes? Roast it to a crisp, brown oblivion with olive oil and salt and eat it straight of the baking sheet? You sound sane.
I do not. The last time I bought cauliflower was two weeks ago when I fell for four adorable grapefruit-sized heads I had to take home with me. Then I had a whole-day project and didn’t cook them. Then I worked on a speech and ate leftovers for two days and didn’t cook them. Then I went away for three days and didn’t cook them. Then I had leftovers from grandma (thanks grandma) and didn’t cook them. Then I forgot to cook them. Then I wasted another day, indecisive.
