After living in a tiny Italian fishing village, I had grown accustomed to my local produce vendor, Yolanda, a gruff, dusty woman who boldly set up her fresh produce stand a few feet from the local supermarket.
The town sheep herder thought nothing of stopping our so-called morning rush-hour traffic to guide his flock across the cobblestone road, never forgetting to tip his cap in gratitude for our patience.
So when we moved to Longmont a decade ago, I was a bit of a food snob. But within a month, I realized I underestimated the bounty of local foods and the interest from Coloradans about staying true to native ingredients.
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