Sometimes I discover I've forgotten about a particular food from back home. Radishes, small and red and zingy. Num. They remind me of my grandfather, who used to pile a tiny hill of salt on the table and dip green onions and radishes in there throughout dinner. I hadn't given them a thought for years. My memory was stirred when I encountered western radishes for the first time the other day. I wanted them, but there's no way I was going to pay over a dollar each for these two little babies.
And there was no way I was going to pay anything for these bad boys, either.