CSA V. NYC @StoryADayMay 20

CSA V. NYC

by Marian Allen

20“The community should support agriculture, but we’re not a community. We’re just two people! What are we supposed to do with this?” Lisa held a gallon plastic bag of lettuce in each hand and could only stare at the red, elephant-eared stalks that were left in the box.

Oliver patted her condescendingly. “Next year we’ll have our own garden and we can grow what we want. Meanwhile, we get creative with whatever comes in the CSA box from current local growers.

“But there must be twenty pounds of rhubarb here! What can I do with twenty pounds of rhubarb?”

“Look around! There’s probably a cookbook in the attic or something.”

Lisa looked around and, sure enough, she found the answer to her question.

What could you do with twenty pounds of rhubarb?

You could chop the stalks up, put them with an equal measure of sugar into a saucepan, and cook it, stirring frequently, until the stalks softened into a sweet-tart sauce, and pour it over pancakes, toast, or ice cream.

You could chop the stalks, mix them with sliced strawberries, sugar, lemon juice, and flour, put it in a pie shell, and bake a delicious pie.

You could chop the leaves, serve it to your husband as a salad, claim you had no idea the leaves were toxic, collect the insurance, sell the farm, and move back to town.

That’s what you could do with twenty pounds of rhubarb.

~*~

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: Two people disagree on major life choices.

MA

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About

I was born in Louisville, Kentucky, but now live in the woods in southern Indiana. Though I only write fiction, I love to read non-fiction. The more I learn about this world, the more fantastic I see it is.

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One thought on “CSA V. NYC @StoryADayMay 20

  1. Jane
    Twitter:

    May 20, 2015 at 9:39am

    HAR HAR HAR HEE HEE HEE !!!!!!!

    Sorry, I’m just rolling around larfing it up!

    POW! BAM!

    Well played.

    Permalink  ⋅ Reply
  2. Pierre Laberge
    Twitter:

    May 20, 2015 at 10:58am

    The rhubarb leaves, would likely not be eaten, as they are NOT tasty. You’d have to boil them to extract the poison and…. Well, maybe I should not say….. Since you, and Holly, and the others all know where I live….

    But I am reminded of my aunt Yvonne’s story/joke (gads I miss her!) about the 4 time widow and the poisoned mushrooms. And the steak. And the story she told the judge. And maybe I better not tell that one, either…..

    Maybe, I paradoxically know too much, and way way way too little, at the same time. Which is a story for you all to compete on…. “The weird man who knew too much and too little”….

    Permalink  ⋅ Reply

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