Saturday Morning at the Farmers’ Market

When I was in college, my boyfriend and I subscribed to local produce “shares.” Here’s how it works: Each week, we’d pick up our basket of seasonal produce from regional farmers. Each week, we’d examine the vegetables and ask, “What is this radish? It looks like a creature from a Miyazaki movie.” Then, one of us would shrug and say, “Google it.”

Reader, we are not farmers.

Truth be told, we signed up for the produce shares to avoid walking in the snow to the grocery store—the ethical eating part was a bonus.

Since I’ve graduated and moved to the Bay Area, my boyfriend Tanner and I have started visiting my local farmers’ market. There’s an easy, quiet contentment to ambling past the tents and listening to folk musicians sing covers of “Jack & Diane.”

Like a lot of middle- and lower-income kids, I grew up eating a lot of processed foods and so was hardly conscious of what I put into my body. Even now, I’m far from being agriculturally literate. But at the farmers market, I get to appreciate the shapes, colors, and communities around fresh foods, and that’s a start.

Tanner, thanks for taking these gorgeous photos, and thanks for a marvelous morning.

“Our pies are substantially healthier than falling down the stairs, caching on fire or being gored by a warthog.”

How has your relationship to food changed as you grew up? How are you spending your Saturday mornings? I hope cartoons are involved.

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