I’ve never lived there — in fact, no one can, as it’s an open-air pavilion on what I assume is public property. The percentage of my life spent there is very very small, I have no heritage or ancestry links to there, and really, I don’t even have any momentous milestones or memories there. 

But all the same, whenever I go to the farmers’ market, it feels like going home. 

A couple years after I moved here, my best friend and I held a bread, pies, and baked goods stall at the Reno County Farmers’ Market. We would spend Thursday and Friday frantically baking, and would show up early Saturday morning to set up and sit at our table. Looking bad, I think we did a good job, but my goodness we were also young and not as experienced as we are now. The whole deal was a lot of work, a lot of ups and downs, a lot of significant connections with our community, a lot of increased appreciation for what it takes to be at market. Plus a whole lot of flour and sometimes a little money. I loved it, and I love how it helped me take another step towards feeling at home in Kansas.

That same farmers’ market is also actually a major component of me beginning to write this column six years ago. The only direction my then-editor essentially gave me was to write about local, seasonal food, incorporating the market and including a recipe. So I would pop over to downtown Hutchinson almost every weekend during the season, getting a feel for what fresh produce was available that day, picking up a little something if I didn’t already have a good option growing in my own garden, and then going home and figuring what to do with it and what to say about it. 

People probably got tired of me meandering around, peering at all their vegetables, and even snapping a picture here and there. But I never got tired of walking the little loop past all the vendor tables, oohing at a giant onion here, aahing at an exquisite beet there, ohhing at tantalizing peaches over there. Oh and knocking on watermelons; I have to knock on watermelons. 

But I’m not sure why I’m speaking of that all in past tense, like I quit going to market. Granted, I don’t go quite as often, but I have always loved to stop by when it works. Last summer when we had our two foster girls, I just made it our Saturday routine to load all the kids up and head to that market pavilion. With a 0-year-old, 1-year-old, and 4-year-old, we were neither the most graceful nor quiet group of customers to descend onto that space, but it was strength to my soul to see my kids learn so much about the world and about our community just from walking around there. They had to sit in “their” rocking chairs every time, to visit the popcorn man, to dance to the live music, to point at all the beautiful veggies. We usually spent more time there than I anticipated, because of course in addition to their shenanigans, I had to make my rounds and talk to all “my people.” 

Benson and I went to RCFM’s opening last Saturday, and it just felt right to be there, even though all I bought was a bar of homemade soap. May you have a farmers’ market where you too can find an extra place that feels a little like home. 

Pickled Sunshine 

Radishes

If we had to rely on what was in my garden this week, it would be slim pickings (three asparagus spears and a single sprig of cilantro, anyone?), but fortunately the people at market know what they’re doing and there were all sorts of fresh options. Radishes are a classic early spring crop, and some people love to crunch on them plain ... but I’m not those people. They are not my favorite veg by any stretch of the imagination, but I discovered this sweet pickled treatment and actually wanted to eat radishes! These brilliant yellow slices add lovely crunch and pungency to a salad, or if you’re my strange son, are perfect just for snacking on. 

Prep tips: I used daikon radishes, but you can use “regular” radishes, french or breakfast or whatever, and you could even use hakuri/small white turnips. Warning, they will smell bad when you open the lid, but be brave and dive in for a bite. 

A pound or two of radishes, any type; peeled

• 1 cup white vinegar

• ½ cup water

• 1 cup sugar or local honey

• 2 tablespoons salt

• 1-2 teaspoons turmeric

Very carefully mandoline (or very thinly slice) radishes, and pack into a widemouth glass jar(s). In a small saucepan, bring remaining ingredients to a simmer, whisking to dissolve sugar completely. Let cool slightly, then pour over radishes. Let set until cool, then lid tightly and chill for at least a day before serving. Leftovers keep for a long time. 

Amanda Miller lives with her husband, almost-two-years-old son, and whoever else God brings them through foster care on the family dairy farm in Hutchinson. She enjoys doing some catering, teaching cooking classes, and freelancing, but mostly chasing after her kid(s). Reach her at hyperpeanutbutter@gmail.com.