Marlbank Road is not the road for those who suffer from car sickness. It is a winding roller coaster of a road. As a child I would beg my Dad to speed up, Dad was the master of hitting the hill at the right speed so that it would induce stomach flips. I am only a grasshopper to his master of the Marlbank Road hills. There is a bit of trick to it I have learned (everyone knows that to be the 'cool' parent you have to make your kids all puke on weee hills). The trick to the most stomach flips on that road is to speed up at the hill, then take your foot off of the accelerator at the top. I can almost hear the echo of my sister and myself behind those of my kids begging, "Do it again! Do it again!"
Marlbank Road is not only the king of the roller coaster hill (my sister and I named them "WEEE Hills", because you scream out "weeeeeeeee" as your stomach does flips and threatens to empty it's contents of the day), it is the home of a local treasure. For the last five years or so there has been a signal that the good food has arrived. It sits there at the side of the busy road, very humble. It's bright orange tarp gives hint to those in the know that fresh produce has finally arrived.
That bright orange tarp that covers The Loghrin's vegetable stand makes my mouth water on sight. It signals to me that the time for good eats is upon us. Beautiful freshly dug potatoes, just picked field tomatoes and corn, juicy cucumbers are all there, begging for purchase. I find it so difficult to choose which vegetables to buy that I usually end up buying one of everything. I stand there in awe of the selection coming up with dozens of possible dishes to make with those beautiful fresh veggies. Those tiny red potatoes would be wonderful if I cooked them and then made a dill sauce with new peas. Maybe I should make some cheesy scalloped potatoes. Those cucumbers would be perfect in cucumber salad. In the end I generally can't seem to make myself sully those fresh wholesome veggies. I resort to their purist form and just cook them and slather them with butter, glorious butter, and a shower of salt.
The thing that I love the most about the Loghrin's stand is not the fresh picked goodness, nor is it even the really reasonable prices, (although I do love both of those things) it's the trust. There is no one guarding that stand to ensure that no one steals. You are guaranteed to see dozens of people all lined up to get fresh produce. Sometimes you will see a member of the Loghrin family replenishing their stand with more freshly picked produce, but you will never see them just standing around guarding their stand. They trust you to do the right thing. They trust you not to rob them. Where in this day and age to you see trust like that? I really respect that.
If you find yourself traveling along the Marlbank Road, then you will see that beacon of goodness glowing orange in the distance. You will also know the right place by all of the cars line up on either side of the road. You should stop and see what all the fuss is about. If you are not as fortunate as we Tweed folk, then do yourself a favour and find out when your local Farmer's Market is. I can make you a guarantee that it will have so much more flavour than anything that you could buy in your local grocery store. You are doing yourself a big favour, and you are supporting your local farmers, and telling them that you respect what they do!