You can’t tell from the picture, but the lady we buy mushrooms from is hot. More often than not, the selecting process for oysters, shiitakes, crimini and portobello takes a little longer than it should — the Gaze lingers a little, sentences come out stuttered.
Look we’re not creeps — but its hard to deal with wanting to score (in a strictly benevolent fantasy that may or may not include a damp soft bed of sawdust in a musty cellar) with the vendor who is where we score some of our fave ingredients.
Amanda caught this moment (sans babe) last fall when the shroom lady’s bounty was in full swing. We’ve kept our wandering eyes away from her stand of late as for some reason she has no more mushrooms and we’re a little too shy to ask her about it…
S** sells. Can we just see you in the saw dust?