Just before I leave my parents’ house for the airport, my father always does the same thing.  He takes some plastic bags and heads out to his gardens to pick vegetables for me to take home.  In my suitcase.  If this doesn’t sound crazy to you, then we should be friends.  I instantly repack our suitcases to fit as many eggplants, peppers and tomatoes (packed in plastic containers) that I can.  Yes, I can buy excellent vegetables in LA.  But, nothing beats homegrown and I’ll take whatever won’t make my clothes smell (ahem, basil.) It’s one of the things I miss most about the East Coast given my patio of a backyard, so I take full advantage of my father’s green thumb.

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