I’m not the first girl to fall in love at a farm stand, but never was I so usurped as I was standing inside the Killdeer Farm Stand in Norwich, Vermont. The colors were arresting shades of pinks and purples, happy greens and golden orange-yellows. I stood there like an idiot savant, my mind filing the colors into categories, meals, and entire frescoes of flavor.
“I can see this is going to be a while,” András said. “I’ll wait in the car.”
Just then, I turned toward a pile of fragrant sweet corn. I was about to reach in and habitually pull back the outer layer of husk when I read a sign that said “You don’t crack your eggs before you buy them, do you?”
Handsome, and clever. Swoon.
