Good Grief!

It’s mid-May and thus the beginning of “harass the produce guy” season. I like to harass a specific produce guy, a man from Lancaster County who travels to Philadelphia’s Reading Terminal Market on Saturdays.

To be a successful produce guy harasser, you must have a goal—in my case, gathering intelligence about the year’s strawberry crop. Not those big-ass, flavorless, shipped-across-the-country pieces of fruit from California. I’m talking about the small, sweet, and juicy morsels grown in Lancaster County. Every year they show up around Memorial Day and disappear by July: elusive, fleeting, and out of this world.

On Saturday I had to approach the produce guy unarmed, without the benefit of the Market Report, which was missing from last week’s Art Museum Area Home News.

ME: Hello.
Produce Guy: Hi.
ME: I see you don’t have any strawberries. [Trick: act a little dumb, make sure he’s not holding out on you].
PG: Strawberries aren’t in yet. A few more weeks.
ME: [Adopt authoritative “I may be a city slicker but I know about farmin’ tone of voice]: I see. So how do they look this year? Last year was pretty bad, what with the cold and rainy spring.
PG: Coming along pretty well.
ME: How much longer do you think?
PG: A few more weeks.
ME: Next week?
PG: Few more weeks…
ME: What’s the soonest they’ll be ready?
PG: [Tiniest bit of annoyance creeping into voice]: I really can’t say. One of our Southern Lancaster County farmers has a south-facing field, and his berries are usually ready first.
ME: When do you think they’ll be ready?
PG: Can’t say for sure.
PG: [Visible relief that another customer needs help]. Excuse me.
ME: Ok! See you next week!

Open season on the hapless produce guy will last until the strawberries arrive, usually by the end of May.