Saturday mornings in Michigan possess a specific, intoxicating perfume: a heady blend of wet herbs, warm sourdough, and that first drift of coffee rising from a sea of white tents.
There is a primal satisfaction in filling a canvas tote with snap-crisp asparagus, ruby-red cherries, or a knobbly squash that looked far too charming to leave behind.
However, the true weekend warrior knows the real challenge begins once the heavy lifting is over, finding that perfect, nearby sun-drenched table to transform your haul into a celebration…