There was a new vendor at the tiny farmers market in the tiny village I pass through on my way to the dump. I had stopped by to pick up some tomatoes, with some vague idea of making Finny's tomato sauce if I got enough. The very friendly young woman at the new booth (which, yes, makes me feel about a hundred years old to say, but she was young--like 23 or so) had various quart-size containers of tomatoes and so on for two dollars each.
I asked her for the container of Romas, and she asked, "Do you sauce?" I replied in the affirmative, still looking at cucumbers and green beans and other things. "Do you sauce?" she asked again, a little more forcefully. "Yes," I said, looking directly at her this time and wondering if this was some kind of code and she was going to hand over a bag of weed or something.
Instead she asked me if I wanted a whole box of Romas for twenty dollars. I didn't quite have twenty dollars, though, so I asked her if she would be there next week. And then she lowered her voice a little and said, "You can have the box for fifteen."
Deal. I have a LOT of tomatoes now and a lot of Finny's tomato sauce in my future. Plus, I feel like a member of a secret club.
So tell me, my lovelies: Do you sauce?