On the heels of my previous post, having used up The Three Amigos and feeling a little lonesome for any one of them, three sad peppers appeared before me.
The market where I work has a big grey plastic box of free, sad produce. It sits by the time clock, sometimes spilling over with produce past its prime, a final plea for a chance to be part of your dinner tonight. Occasionally it's odds and ends of produce that just didn't pass muster from the get-go, technically fresh but not so pretty, the rest is pulled from the floor when it gets a little too funky for the gorgeous bountiful harvest in the market, but not funky enough for the compost bin. The best of the funky get nabbed by the produce peeps, the rest gets left for any staff willing to give it a go. I always snatch up the peppers, hoping to accumulate enough for a pepper roasting. This bunch almost got away from me, forgotten in the produce drawer and suddenly requiring CPR. I was pondering bedtime just prior to flipping on the broiler. 15 minutes later, these amazing roasted peppers began life anew.
The very next day, as luck would have it, I was in the right place at the right time when my produce gal turned me onto a bunch of sad plum tomatoes.
This dynamic duo could make an old shoe taste good.