Despite having all his new clothes stolen off our balcony Saturday morning while he was out playing Frisbee, the Producer managed to join me for a trip to the bazaar Sunday morning.
I hadn't been to the bazaar since before I left for the States. In the meantime, it's clear that the bounty of the earth has been released, in the form of cherries.
Having spent a bit of my youth in Yakima, Washington, I thought I knew from cherries -- bings, Raniers, maybe another "heirloom" strain here or there. I also thought that cherries were generally sold from wood-slat boxes lined with old newspapers.
The cherry growers of Washington could learn a little something about cherries from the Azeris. Every vendor in our bazaar offers at least 6 or 7 different kinds, ranging from incredibly sour to sugar-sweet, in every size and color. Some cost about 30 cents a kilo (two pounds). The more expensive ones reach a dollar a kilo.
Trying all the different kinds is even more fun than salsa tasting day at New Seasons on a Saturday morning, mostly because there's no double dipping to worry about.
Not only that, the Azeris are way ahead in the marketing department. Their cherries are meticulously pyramided in clear plastic bowls. Since the average Azeri makes even less than then average newly arrived Oaxacan, this gravity-defying marketing gimmick is pretty cost effective.
Unfotunately, all this sweet agricultural goodness could not salve the sour attitude of someone who had recently been mugged while participating in a wholesome, family-oriented sport, then had all his laundry stolen from his very own balcony while out participating in the same wholesome, family-oriented sport.