Vegetables

At the mid-day meal, they ate heavily: a huge hot roast of beef, fat buttered lima-beans, tender corn smoking on the cob, thick red slabs of sliced tomatoes, rough savory spinach, hot yellow corn-bread, flaky biscuits, a deep-dish peach and apple cobbler spiced with cinnamon, tender cabbage, deep glass dishes piled with preserved fruits—cherries, pears, peaches.

Thomas Wolfe, Look Homeward, Angel

By July, it seems every rural family in the South must have its own roadside produce stand. Hand-painted signs—some of which have found their way into folk art galleries all over the country—announce peaches, tomatoes, watermelons, okra, onions, potatoes, corn by variety (Silver Queen is a current favorite), and cantaloupes under enough variant spellings to confound Dr. Johnson (my favorite: “can’telope”). And every stand has its loyal adherents. Even the efficiency of interstate travel is deserted for the back-road rewards of produce shopping. Motor trips to the mountains or shore necessitate stops that have grown into traditions, a respectful annual call for knowledgeable purchases: “They have good corn here.” “No, let’s wait to get beans at that stand on down the road.”