I’m that crazy lady at the farmers market inspecting each cherry tomato for flaws. Yep, the one sniffing all the melons before she picks a winner. That’s me. I’m the weirdo and I can’t help it. As a girl who grew up on five-can casserole, I love the farmers market.
There’s nothing quite like it. The food is fresh, smells like it came from a farm (crazy, I know!) and the people selling it usually grew it and feed it to their own families. It’s amazing. I’ll gladly accept the many side-eye glances sent my way if it means I get to enjoy all the aroma-sniffing, squeeze-testing and thump-checking I can when I’m there each week. And I never miss a week.
我有一定的方法来准备羽衣甘蓝和柑橘彩虹的山脉，使我们度过冬天，但是到3月来临时，我已经准备好向他们告别。当我发现第一个春季芦笋和豌豆时，我很兴奋。我将比较诸如西兰花和洋葱之类的平凡事物，但我很乐意在夏天在两个光荣的几个星期内出售奥利贝里斯（Olallieberries）的女士要求的任何价格。很高兴看到传家宝西红柿在7月首次到达时发生的疯狂，尽管我学会了等待并在赛季晚些时候用case-full购买thumbprint成熟的一半价格和一半的价格。
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每周进行一次改变我的内部日历，因为我可以根据待售的内容来说明一年中的几点。樱桃通常在5月下旬出现的第一次出现是Stonefruit季节正式启动的标志，其次是六月的花卉杏子，其次是七月和八月的含糖桃子。
Am I the only one who gets heart palpitations when offered six varieties of chile peppers? Anyone else?
Plus, there’s plenty to buy that doesn’t require a vegetable peeler. There’s a dude selling eight kinds of olive oil, a father-son duo with orchids in three sizes and an adorable elderly couple offering sticky jars of honey in every shade of amber. A few random purveyors join the fun, too: the overly friendly hummus guy, the Peruvian lady who weaves huge baskets and the wheatgrass juice-slinging hippie chick. Like a cast of sitcom characters, no week is complete without an appearance from each of them.
如果您像我这样的职业和父母的杂耍工作，农贸市场也是一个有趣的，当地的，户外的excursion that doesn’t cost a fortune. My kids don’t get excited about the first of the persimmons but they have their own highlights: The balloon lady who twists animals on demand and Harmonica Joe’s drum that makes a wooden kitten dance with the beat. Honestly, I think it’s a bit creepy, but my stroller-riding baby can’t get enough. While he’s entertained, I buy groceries for the week without ever stepping in a store. If I’m really lucky, I might run into a friend for a quick hug and a five-minute catch-up.
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My parents did the best they could and I appreciate every from-a-can meal they served. But the farmers market nourishes so much more than just my stomach. Tonight, when I set down platters of grilled vegetables in front of my kids, I’ll be giving thanks for every farmer who lovingly grew that food. I’m grateful they brought it to the market in its seasonally ripe glory, because that’s what perfect food looks like. Besides, cans aren’t nearly as much fun to squeeze and sniff.
