Living in California, the land of the organic and the crunchy, farmer's markets are nearly given holy reverence. Yet, I rarely went to them. Even thought there was one every day of the week, I just couldn't be bothered to go. To go to one, I would have to drive out of my way, push through the crowds, pay through the nose and STILL have to go to Trader Joe's for everything else. So I abstained from farmer's markets due to sheer laziness.
But now that I live in Philadelphia, this has completely changed.
First of all, it's actually now more convenient to get to the farmer's market. I leave my apartment, walk one block and I'm there. I still have to pay through the nose but now I only walk a block with my groceries. When I go to Trader Joe's, on the other hand, I have to trudge through 4 blocks. My laziness now tells me that any item I buy at the farmer's market is one less thing to haul back from TJ's. So farmer's market it is.
Second, the farmer's market allows me to indulge in my anthropological curiosity. I simply can't get enough of the Amish farmers. No one had told me that a secondary prize for following my husband out of Pennsylvania would be that I could buy tomatoes from real-life, honest-to-goodness Amish people. It's hard to describe my elation. Sighting celebrities in California, meh. Buying produce from young men wearing suspenders, priceless.
Third, I was not prepared for the quality of the produce. I don't know what the Amish farmers do to their crops but it is phenomenal. California organic farmers, take notice. Maybe if you spent less time growing pot and more time on your front, I mean, business, I would have gone to your markets more often.
A kind vendor scolded me for putting herbs in the refrigerator. Now they live free on my windowsill. I'm in awe of all I've been missing.
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