I am not particularly goal oriented, but this week I'm determined to cook every last gorgeous vegetable in my refrigerator. Our friends the Palmenters have gone out of town (Connecticut, Mongolia) and in their absence generously made us the beneficiaries of their farm share. As far as I can tell, having a CSA is like subscribing to the New Yorker: Instead of a mailbox-ful of reading material, CSA shareholders are inundated with beautiful produce. But while the New Yorker has totally kicked my ass, I will persevere with this particular bounty, so help me god. Prepare yourselves, bitches. There will be vegetables.