Greens, eggs and sausage
Story by Theresa Curry
At the Staunton-Augusta Farmers Market, I bought some fat bags of creasey, a wonderful spring vegetable I think of almost as a yearly tonic. Creasey always makes me remember Aunt Lucy Barlow, now long gone. In the tiny Southside community of Sugar Hill, Aunt Lucy began her search for creasey as soon as she could see it coming up in late February in patches of unplowed ground. It grew beneath the melting orange snow, stained by the heavy clay under the white sand that gives the rural crossroads its name. I’d never seen this dry land cousin to watercress until I married into Lucy’s Campbell County family. With its tiny leaves and rosette structure – kind of like dandelion greens except with delicate, round leaves – the creasey plants looked so much like weeds that I was surprised when Lucy brought a washbasin full into the kitchen to simmer with bacon for an April meal.
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