Within about two days almost every vendor on the backroad had okra in their stalls. So, what could I do? I had to buy some, pull out my Joy of Cooking, and find the old recipe for cooking okra. It's pretty basic: green pepper, onion, okra, some tomato and basil. I dress it up with some red wine, chili peppers, olive oil.

One of the pleasure of life in Taipei is shopping for food. I don't know why, but the locals who see me walking with the familiar translucent plastic bag with the wide red stripes get excited. Are they excited because I'm cooking? Or because I'm shopping in a traditional market, buying fresh vegetables? They'll ask what I'm making, if I'm cooking Chinese-style. I guess I tend to cook both, or sometimes a blend of the two - Asian and Western. But the markets are such wonderful places to shop. Don't like the green peppers? Walk over to the next stall. This vendor has great asparagus - perhaps I'll make a frittata tonight. I look to see what I'll cook that evening. And there is so much to choose from. I think the variety was driven home to me one summer when I was in Connecticut. I was, for the first time in six months, in a supermarket. Not even mentioning the fact I was in a HUGE BUILDING with 27 aisles, but, that fact aside, I found myself in the produce aisle. I looked at the broccoli and, noticing it didn't look so fresh, realized that, in order to look at different broccoli, I would have to get in line, pay for everything I'd already gathered on my journey through this warehouse-sized business, walk through the parking lot, get into my car, and drive to another supermarket to see how THEIR broccoli looked. In Taipei I just walk to the next stall.

Excited to go home in just about a month's time. But not particularly excited to shop again in giant supermarkets.

OK, enough about food. I gotta go tend to my okra.