The Green Market: Week Two

Farmer's markets have such a positive association in my mind - images of abundant and beautiful produce, busy sellers answering questions about price and cooking tips, people laughing and chatting.

We had beautiful produce when we arrived, we really did. Harvested this morning, the kale bunches stood strong, the dill and cilantro sent tantalizing wafts of fragrance, radish bunches gleamed, and salad mix showed its many colors.

Enter the wind. The beach is always breezy, but this wind would have taken away our EZ-Up tent had we not held onto at least one leg at all times. (Note to self: really really remember to bring cinder blocks next week.) By the time we finally managed to secure the tablecloth and all the baskets (in between mopping up water spilled when the sunflower vases kept blowing over), our produce had wilted. We had hardly made one sale before the things-not-in-bags-but-sitting-in-bowls-of-water had shriveled to a mess of green that would have scared away the most earnest of shoppers. We did some hasty tucking away of produce, underneath the table and back into burlap and plastic bags to save what we could. Amazingly, people bought a few things, and even better, we had some repeat customers from last week. But packing up nearly full coolers to go made me wonder if the sunburn on the back of my neck was worth it.

Enter dinner. I didn't think I was going to eat any, too parched and wilted myself (I even drank soda on the way home) to think about cooking, instead semi-satisfying myself with a pesto snack given to us from another vendor. But about an hour before the market closed, a man with a white ponytail, overalls and a "Retired Marine Corps" hat unloaded some pretty magnificent edibles onto the table next to ours: cucumbers, frilly kale, giant hakurei turnips. This was Willie, a local gardener who sent us home with two bunches of turnips, greens included. After lying in bed for half an hour, too tired to read and still hungry, I mustered the energy to cook something, grabbing some (wilted) turnip greens and one turnip. It was exactly what my mouth wanted, and soon I was making a list of things we could do to improve our little market booth, starting with sunscreen.