From Garden Slave to Produce Princess

As a kid, the only thing I hated more than cleaning the barn was weeding the garden. Yes, I once lived on a farm, and yes, I had chores. Of course, I didn’t mind the ones that involved minimal discomfort (i.e. feeding the bunnies), but the ones that kept me outside burning in the hot, scorching sun only to get eaten alive by gnats and mosquitos? No, thanks!

Our family farm in Punxsutawney, PA.

So, growing up, I grew to HATE the garden. Why? Well, maybe because ours was half the size of a football field. Or perhaps it was a bit unpleasant getting woken up by my mother at 6am during the SUMMER to weed, pick and water. Not gonna lie, at age nine, I felt like a slave…and boy, did I want emancipated! (Sorry, Mom! lol.) While all my friends were sleeping in, there I was... hunched over, knees covered in dirt, filling a five-gallon bucket with enough beans to feed Somalia.

At the time, I had no appreciate for fresh fruit or vegetables, so this was pure, unwarranted torture. To me, candy, pastries and ice cream were way tastier than carrots, tomatoes and squash. But now, as an adult, I look back and realize how fortunate I was to be eating organic produce from our very own garden.

Living on base, most military families (including us) shop at the commissary. But there is one type of food I refuse to buy there, and you guessed it… it’s produce. It’s not only expensive, it’s overripe and on the verge of rotting before you ever bring it home. It only took one bad batch of tomatoes with brown, rancid juice, for me to swear off their vegetables forever.

So now I shop off base at a nearby Japanese farmers market, where all the produce is locally grown, fresh and delicious.

Japanese woman peruses the gourd bin.

Mangos are considered a delicacy in Japan.

For 1,300 yen (or $16.54), you can buy TWO mangos.

Fresh bananas grown in Okinawa.

My friend Cerrin selecting some garlic.

Soft tofu, a staple in the Japanese diet.

Yummy fruit jams.