The Studio City Farmer's Market

...is a great one. It operates on Sunday morning and while reaching a IBY 8.5 (The Index of Baldfaced Yuppiness), they have so much wonderful Southern Shmalifornia produce to choose from.

Mummy P. wonders why we like to shop there. "I have food here," she says. Ah, right.

It was really nice to see Homeboy Bakery with a booth at the Farmer's Market. This is full-circle economic development, folks. Homeboy Industries is a fabulous organization begun by Father Greg Boyle twenty-some years ago, to try and keep gang kids out of jail, or rehab the ones who went in and got out. Their Mexican restaurant on North Broadway is run 100% by really scary looking people, but the food is cheap and authentic and delicious. And now their bakery (from which Plotnik bought a sourdough olive loaf for...get this...$7 bucks!) sells its just-baked breads and pastries ("Hey, we got up at four, homes, to bake this stuff. We had to wait 'til it cooled off to get it into the paper, shee...") in Studio City, not exactly known as a hotbed of gangland activity.

Crystals. You can buy crystals. Vegan towels. Kale tamales. But also mushrooms. Lots of chantarelles, morels, many others too, Chef P. Nothing less than $20-$60/pound.





Plot is making dinner tonight for Ducknik, Mummy P. and cousin Lilalee. Looks like Greek Tycoon Burgers with mushrooms (of course), sourdough olive bread (of course) and lots of fresh spinach and baby romaine (of course).



Then it's two days of being buried in the studio, from which Plot will arise at some point Tuesday night and fly home.

Any of you Plotnikkies who expressed a desire to hear "Rabbi Karpas," you'll get a CD in the mail if you send me a street address. It's 'way too big a file for e-mail.