One of my favorite things about summer is FRESH PRODUCE! And from May through September, most Saturday mornings find me at my local farmer’s market (before I hit the weedeater, that is). I grew up on a lot of land without a lot of cash, in an extended family household with decades of country wisdom, and young, strong backs to put that wisdom to use (backs like mine). That meant an enormous garden, weeded and harvested after school or after supper. Then there were hours spent on the front porch, shucking corn, hulling strawberries and stringing beans. When I would grumble, my great-aunt Virgie would cheerfully declare “this’ll taste better…