A cold, wet week and even more miserable Saturday morning, but the OPO folks were waiting for us at the farmers' market. The weather has kept them out of the field for the past several days. But, I learned, they did finally mow down the okra. (Hooray!)
Sunday will need to be filled with aggressive cooking, or else Senior Chef #2 and the Junior Chefs will be stuck with plenty of edible leaves while I am away for another business trip.
Okra. (Oh-crah). A single letter change in the phonetic spelling might better express my reaction in finding yet another helping of these pods in our CSA share this week. 
Yet another repeat appearance by OPO okra in this week's CSA share had me scratching my head for novel ways to prepare this southern slimy favorite. Fried, stewed, and casseroled versions have already been employed. I decided to try my hand at Gumbo.
Let me begin by suggesting this is a dish you probably will want to make in private. In at least one critical junction in the preparation, you will probably feel a) very guilty, b) very hungry, and c) uncertain whether you can actually proceed according to the recipe. The result will not be as good if you lose your willpower at that moment and decide to safeguard your health rather than following the directions. Proceed at your own risk.
The Method
This is an amalgamation of several different approaches I've seen to gumbo. I am emboldened to try this or any other single pot recipe after having purchased a 9 quart Le Creuset enameled cast iron French oven a few years back (to support a successful Christmas cassoulet). The better the pot, the more confidence you can bring to dishes like gumbo.
Heaven. Well, if the idea of eating a pot of chicken and sausage gravy with the occasional vegetable poking out sounds like a dinner worth having, this was heaven! The sausage gave the dish just a hint of spice, but wasn't distracting. The okra dissolved, thickening the stew. Perhaps some would add it much later so that it would retain its independence, but we enjoyed it in this way. We have plenty to put in the freezer, and still more for a second meal later this week. (Given the high fat-to-other-things ratio, this is probably a wise choice.) 
One of the benefits to being a member of a CSA (community-supported agriculture) farm is that you know more about your food. And you know more about what did not become your food. Picking up our share today from the Orchard Pond Organics stand at the farmers' market, I learned from Lydia that the entire new crops of broccoli and carrots were killed by the unusually high heat. When your produce is grown around the country and hemisphere, local weather and climate conditions have less influence on what is available at the supermarket. When your food is local, the impact is more discernible.
Forgot to bring our OPO bag with us today to the farmers' market. We learned that our friends at the CSA have two bags per member. (There is more to running a CSA than simply growing the food. You have partners to manage, too!)
The busy week prevented us from talking about the many other marvelous meals we prepared with our first share. (We also found many of our pictures were mysteriously deleted .)
We were excited to receive our first CSA! There was - admittedly - a little uncertainty about what it would contain. We're fortunate to be able to make food choices for ourselves, so turning over the choices to OPO and Mother Nature is a change.
The first share contained radishes, hot peppers, arugula, okra, a watermelon, and basil. We also receive a dozen eggs every other week from Twin Oaks Farm.
Choices. It is dangerously comfortable to seize upon easy options when it comes to food. We should perhaps be forgiven for this, because most of us have been raised with a sense that our food is ready-at-hand; a matter of convenience or even entertainment if we have the means. A moment's reflection at the lives of many around the world should quickly disabuse us of this view. A fuller appreciation for our uncommon comfort may be a healthier response than abiding guilt. Certainly, in my own family, we seldom treat food casually. Food plays the starring role in almost every gathering and lies at the heart of many conversations. We think creatively about food - we cook with gusto and eat with pleasure. Perhaps this is because my parents have always maintained a large and diverse garden, herb beds, and fruit trees. There is an undeniable joy in preparing and sharing what you have grown. You understand by reason of failure and unexpected success the challenges inherent in providing even a portion of what you eat. As it happens, other life choices - all positive - such as pursuing higher education, raising a family, being active in the community, mean that we require others to assume the responsibility of producing what we eat.
We have decided to look locally for help. This week we accepted our first "share" from Orchard Pond Organics, a Tallahassee-based CSA farm. We can expound on the wonders of radish sandwiches and watermelon; on fresh eggs and okra. We should spend some time openly praising the jars of homemade applesauce, cherry jam, baba ganoush, and other treats that find their way with some regularity to our home in Florida from a particular family garden in Illinois.
In the end, we are sharing our experience in learning about, preparing, and enjoying the foods from others as public appreciation for those in our lives who allow us to live well by eating well.
