Squash blossoms are fragile. You should eat them the same day you buy them.
But I found some at the market this morning and I won't be home for dinner tonight, so they're going to have to wait for tomorrow. I expect to stuff them with ricotta, batter them and deep fry them. And I expect them to be freaking delicious.
Sometimes a very simple food crosses a line and becomes gourmet, and the price goes up accordingly. This happens a lot with fish. Monkfish and lobster used to be trash fish, either discarded outright or sold off for cheap. Now you'll pay top dollar for them.
Squash blossoms are a very pricey item in the States. When I would buy them at the farmers market in Chicago (back in the days when I had to pay for things there), they were 75¢ or $1 apiece.
Here, I bought them for 5¢ apiece. Yes, some things are cheaper here than in the States, but this is disproportionately and marvelously inexpensive.
And who can resist eating flowers?
I'm loath to make generalizations — even positive ones — about porteños. But I really do think that people here talk to strangers a little more than in the States.
I was coming back from the market this morning and about to cross a busy street. To my right stood a woman in her 70s.
The light changed and I strode out into the crosswalk.
Behind me, I heard a voice shout: "Wait for me!"
I took a few more steps and heard it again.
I turned around to see the little old lady galloping my way. She had been speaking to me.
"¡A los dos juntos no nos van a atropellar!" ("They won't run us both over together!")
We got to the other side of the street and she thanked me. "Please!" I said. "It was nothing."
It made me think of how I always feel just a little bit better about crossing the street with a nun. Because if you run over a nun, don't you basically go straight to hell?
Then again, maybe they'll swerve to avoid the nun and take me out.