Market Melts Hearts

This weekend, the Spoonstress and I were lucky enough to have visitors. Papa Fork and Mama Spoon, also known as my dad and mom, flew South.

As part of our plans, the Spoonstress devised a delicious idea--buy fresh veggies, cheese and bread from the local farmer's market and fry up, excuse me, sauté a nice lunch.

Papa Fork and I were in charge of the meal, selecting ingredients by that time-tested tradition: seeing what looked best. We settled on a kind of vegetable melt. On the produce side, we came home with Japanese eggplant, green tomatoes, summer squash and bok choy. The master stroke, though, was getting a smoked mozzarella that melted nicely.

After procuring a round, seeded loaf from the lefty food co-op, we were in the sandwich business.

Mama Spoon was given the afternoon off in deference to her decades of food prep love language. Papa Fork and I got down to it: Labor was divided. Produce was stir-fried. Bread was "griddled." Cheese was gloriously melted.

I whipped up what's turning out to be our staple side dish--roasted sweet potatoes and onions with green beans and rosemary. The timing of the stir-frying, bread toasting and side dishing worked surprisingly well.

I was a bit worried about the confluence of all these strange ingredients. Would they play nice? Were green tomatoes supposed to taste this tart? Was bok choy even sandwich fare? Were green tomatoes even edible?

It all came together.

The sandwiches, which I'll call Farmer's Market Fun Melts, were surprisingly tasty. The Spoonstress, as usual, hit the nail on the head: "None of these vegetables are my favorite, but this sandwich sure is."

So what gives? Sometimes the sum is greater than the parts. Sometimes food just tastes better with great company.