Finally, our little tiny northern Arizona town has successfully hosted a farmers market. It ain't high class, but it ain't white trash, and it's definitely not wild or crazy ... but it's managed to draw locals and tourists for three solid months now, and there's talk of extending it through October.
A little over a year and a half ago, I fell in love with the LA dining scene. I spent a whirlwind-ish five days hitting up as many hot spots and do not dare miss locations as I could fit in. Time, my stomach, and my pocket book eventually got the better of me, but not before I experienced some of the freshest, inventive, and exciting food of my lifetime.
Living in a rather secluded and arid neck of the woods, I can't think of anything more exciting than being gifted with fresh fish. Truthfully, it happens to me more often than is fair, compared to other folks in town, because my boss is a fisherman. There's never a shortage of striped bass from Lake Powell, but I also tend to receive fresh cod and halibut when he visits Alaska (usually once a year), fresh red snapper, shrimp and oysters when he visits the Big Boss down on the Gulf of Louisiana, and most recently, fresh brook trout from cold-water creeks in Southern Utah.