on the farm my parents had a truck garden and a roadside stand where home grown vegetables and strawberries were sold. my dad took vegetables to a farmers’ market in watertown. most of the produce sold at the stand went to customers travelling to their vacation homes in henderson harbor and other parts of lake ontario. my mother was the chief cucumber picker and she was fussy. a cuke should be thin and only dark green, no yellow or light green. never. if the slender slicer didn’t pass muster, it was thrown into the outside row where it would provide compost. we had cucumbers every way possible from sandwiches to bread and butter pickles. my father kept a bowl of cider vinegar, some water, salt and pepper, onion slices and cucumbers. as he ate the cukes, he would replace them with more, sometimes adding vinegar. no one touched his bowl. dinner salad was sliced cucumbers, chopped tomatoes and green peppers, minced onions and good seasons italian dressing made from a packet in the accompanying cruet-type jar. no lettuce. left over salad was actually better the next morning after it had marinated. my sister learned to share with me.
often the cucumbers we buy from a purveyer are so fat and yellowish that i have to refuse them. wish they could get them right, my mom did.
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