A Secret Set of Rules for Flavor Creation

Through Rain and Sleet and the Many Oregon Spring Seasons

At Saturday market with equal parts resignation and fortified will, Paul and I flipped up our hoods as if hoping to somehow minimize the squishing of our soaked, porous shoes on the pavement.

It’s the Oregon Way.

Had we really needed to jet to market and back before a 10:30 zoom session? We’d known we were in for a weekend of rain. Even the enjoyment of our beloved weekend caffeination process was dripping.

The rain picked up in intensity. Big, fast, heavy drops. Ugh.

Market vendors were packing up, having grasped that selling pastries to drenched locals wouldn’t fly, no matter how steamy the coffee was. The stroopwafel guy was nowhere to be found, his mini trailer looking sadly in despair at his absence.

Our shared tension rose as our body temperatures fell, the anxiety around whether our favorite organic vendor made the one and one-half hour drive from Corvallis, now overtaking us.

Aha, Riverland, so happy to see you! Just as I began fondling the alliums, the Riverland guy said, “Sorry…