 |
Barefoot Farms Farmer's Market |
Today's guest blogger for Monday Market Meals is Kim Byer from South Carolina, host of the blog The Paper Apron. Kim
splits her time between South Carolina’s inland capitol city—Columbia-- and the
sea islands in the Lowcountry near Beaufort, South Carolina. Her food articles
can be found in Charleston Living, Columbia Living and Wilmington, North
Carolina magazines. When not hanging out with her husband, her two Golden
Retrievers or tending to her flock of chickens, she’s likely on Instagram
@paperapron. Thanks, Kim, for the post!
A few
years ago we built a cottage on stilts in a fishing village on a sea island off
the coast of South Carolina. My father designed the house, we had it built, and
now my family is slowly finishing the interior. Slowwwwwwly. Because by a few
years, I mean four and by four I mean realistically ten. Here in the Lowcountry,
not only do we talk more slowly, but there is no need to rush—it’s simply too
hot and humid to hurry. And if the pace of life on these Carolina sea islands
seems even slower than the rest of the South, then it shouldn’t come as a
surprise to know that the slow food trend has been trendy here for centuries.
Not that there aren’t take-out pizza nights and trips to the drive-thru and the
grocery store, but for the most part, when we’re on the island and we’re not
DIY-ing or crabbing or readying the Whaler for a day of shrimping, we’re headed
into town to find the roadside food stand with the reddest strawberries or the
market with the watermelon that thumps jussssst so.
The
drive to town takes me within a stone’s skip to the turn where Pat Conroy was
recently laid to rest in an unremarkable and secluded Gullah cemetery off of
Highway 21. When Pat chose where he wanted to be buried, he chose the center of
absolute nowhere and at once, the center of the universe. I pass a massive live
oak, called the Lincoln Oak. Legend has it that a tall man in a stovepipe hat once
stood atop a box and read a lengthy declaration that all men held as slaves
should henceforth and forever be free. I pass the road to Penn Center, where a
young civil rights leader, Dr. Martin Luther King, penned the beginnings of a
speech that would echo throughout history as his splendid, majestic dream.
I
mention these things because they’re important. I may be driving through the
land of tomato packing plants and junked school buses heaving beneath the
weight of a thousand watermelons, but the blood and bones and sweat of our
ancestors enrich the soil that grows the seeds that spit out the plants that
catch the unbearably bright Lowcountry sun to feed our summer dinner whims. Eating
local food means understanding and honoring its origins.
 |
Eating local food means understanding and honoring its origins. |
I
stop at Barefoot Farms and buy the reddest seedless watermelon I’ve ever seen
and a handful of spicy peppers and heirloom tomatoes. In Port Royal, the next
town over, the Saturday market is a lively respite in the breezy shade of a
ring of oaks. Smells of wood-fired pizza and teriyaki dumplings mix with
freshly baked bread and herb bouquets. Purple okra pods and fuchsia plums sit
alongside gold and green zucchini and everywhere I look, local tomatoes are
front and center on the farm tables.
Market
mornings all over our country are redefining the way we feed our families. By
honoring the local farmer’s food, the cheese monger’s cheese and the baker’s
homemade goodies, we are honoring our community and feeding more than our
families; we are feeding our souls.
 |
In Port Royal the Saturday market is a lively respite in the breezy shade of a ring of oaks. |
I
head to my car with a bouquet of flowers and living basil, a piquant hunk of
salty brie, a loaf of lemon curd cheesecake, some peaches and a few ears of corn.
Recipes are swirling in my head as I start the engine and push my face into the
air conditioner vent. I’ll use my hens’ eggs and a chunk of Gruyere along with
my tomatoes, corn, peppers and basil to make a crustless quiche. I turn on the
radio and listen to NPR. I think I’ll go a little slower as I pass by the
Lincoln Oak this time.
-Kim Byer
 |
Sweet Corn and Tomato Quiche |
Sweet
Corn & Tomato Quiche
Serves six
Butter or oil for pie plate
1 1/4 cup grated Gruyere cheese
1/2 sweet onion, chopped
2 ripe tomatoes, thinly
sliced
2 ears fresh sweet corn, off the cob
3 to 6 jalapenos or banana peppers, seeded and minced (optional)
2 tablespoons chopped fresh basil +
extra for topping
5 eggs
1 small can (5 oz.) evaporated milk
1/8 t freshly ground pepper
1/4 t salt
Sour
cream or goat cheese for topping
Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees.
Grease a 9-inch pie plate with butter, cooking spray or oil. Layer the bottom
and sides of the pan with the Gruyere cheese. Continue with layers of onion,
peppers, and the slices of one tomato. Add the corn and top with slices of the
second tomato. In a medium-size bowl, crack five eggs and pour in one small can
of evaporated milk. Add salt and pepper, whisk, and pour over vegetables. Add
basil and another grind of pepper. Bake for 30 minutes or until center is
set. Top with small or torn basil leaves and a dollop of sour cream.
