First day at the farmers’ market

I’m honestly not even sure how my selling whiskey at the farmers’ market came about.  I was bored, I remember saying that.  Not bored as in “I have nothing to do” (ha ha, quite the opposite really) more of a mental boredom where I am sick of doing the five million things I have to do.  So, somehow I fell in to selling whiskey (a product I am not overly familiar with).  I was told I could add my own products to the table too, and that’s right up my alley.

I decided that barbeque sauce was the expected product with whiskey and that seemed rather boring (and that’s what I’m avoiding) so I started with mustard.  I made a Dijon with whiskey instead of wine.  It was ok.  I also made a spicy sweet mustard with jalapenos and chipotles and whiskey.  That one came out quite well so I canned a batch.

Mustard still seemed a little boring.  I was looking for more (I realize that this entire line of thought would strike most as boring.  Other people sky dive or race cars or do stuff like that.  I turn to condiments for excitement.  So sue me.)  The inspiration hit when I was in the car: I’d do a donut, a WHISKEY DONUT, with bacon!

The first batch came out really, really tasty.  The whiskey gives it a wonderful warm nutmeggy sort of flavor and the bacon is subtle.  Perfect!


The market has to pre-approve all products and, unfortunately, I was too late for this week.  But next week will see me frying donuts at 5 in the morning on Saturday.  Living the dream!

I left the house at 7 in order to get to the market at 8 for set up.  It was pouring rain.  No lightening, luckily, but the rain was intense.  I managed to unload everything myself (I have carpel tunnel issues in both hands and need surgery so I was a little worried about that).

At 9am the market opened and I was offering whiskey tastes.  It was a very interesting crowd willing to drink whiskey in the am.  There were a few weather beaten old men, the sort I guess I would have expected.  But there were also several women who were enthusiastic fans, some younger and some older.  I guess whiskey is one of those things that appeals to a broad cross-section of society.  There were college kids (I carded them, all were born when I was in college and yet, by some cruel twist in the time-space continuum, were of legal drinking age.  I’m still trying to get that straight in my head).  There were seniors.  Men, women, upscale, and rough around the edges.  There was a group home whose residents seemed rather keen on sampling but the home staff shooed them away.  Even the old man with the face tattoos who had a nearby market table distributing free literature on keeping pet fish (I have no idea if or how he makes money doing that) was a fan.

Leo came with the kids around noon so we could switch off.  I was actually kind of sad to leave as things were really picking up.  I can’t wait to go back next week with my mustard and donuts.


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