I love the little hand-painted signs at farmer’s market stalls. All these promises and guarantees of organic healthfulness; it’s like reading the label on a bottle of fresh, delicious snake oil.
Bread handmade by beautiful French virgins!
Potatoes harvested by blind choirboys!
Eggs laid by hens fed on only the finest butter and chocolate!
Dandelion greens that were…picked from a field, but you live in the city and have no fields available to you to replicate this feat!
I admit it, I couldn’t resist. We are eating good tonight!