Selling My Matzo Ball Soup, Again

     Page Two Hundred Twenty-Nine.
     I was invited to sell my mazto ball soup at an arts benefit over this last weekend. I feel like my matzo ball soup is gradually taking on a life of its own, but I don't mind that. I can't really say that I sold a lot, only about 10 quarts, but that's okay. The attendance was somewhat lower than anticipated so that was probably the reason I brought too much back home with me. I really did better than many of the other vendors, so I'm not going to complain.
     I also made a fantastic connection. The vendor sitting next to me is on the board for another arts festival which is held every November and she LOVED me and my soup so she invited me to that other festival. The chairwoman for this other event happened to show up too, and was quite smitten with my product as well. She sent my application this morning.
     Arts festivals are really a world all their own. I ran into an old friend, Randy, who's married to a jeweler who does exceedingly well working the circuit. Randy was manning his wife's booth and he told me that she travels all over Ohio, Indiana, Michigan, Pennsylvania, Illinois and anywhere else possible. They put 35,000 miles on the car last year hawking her wares, but she supports the entire family financially. So there you go. It really is possible to make a living as an artist but hard work, perseverance, salesmanship and travel are definitely part of the equation.
     And then you have people like me who sells artisanal foods at these events. I mean, let's be honest, you don't often see matzo ball soup being sold at arts festivals. I'm a novelty act.
    When I was a child I read an Archie comic book in which Betty wanted to paint a picture of date-nut bread for the local art show. She started out by making a loaf to use as a model. Everybody in the neighborhood could smell the bread as it was baking so people kept approaching her to purchase some date-nut goodness. Eventually, she simply sold loaves at the art show and everybody was so thrilled with her bread that she won a prize. There you go. Art is art whether it's jewelry, date-nut bread or matzo ball soup. (As a matter of fact, when I was 18 I donated some homemade cookies to an art opening at a local non-profit art gallery. I won a blue ribbon for those things even though there was no official category for food. I forgot all about that until writing this blog.)