OVER the years I have always been drawn to the local market.
NO matter where I am, which town city or even country. I love them. I love the hustle and bustle of a market. So often now the supermarket is our main shopping environment, its quick, its all under one roof and that is exactly what the big chains know and understand well. There is a reason why your favourite smell of fresh baking bread is piped over the entrance, but yet the bakery is always at the furthest possible point in the store.
WE should all be focused on better fresher food for so many reasons, it literally makes my head spin. But shortening the food chain and cutting out long haul vegetables is crucial if you want it to be as health as possible, and actually as cheap as possible too.
FOOD is seasonal. It always has been and always will be. And never more so than in the local market. By eating what is in season your body gets to experience the joy of current food. Not tasteless force ripened strawberries in December, or peaches which are hard for a week then magically go rotten in about 20 minutes. All completely frustrating and completely avoidable.
THIS time of year my pity goes out to the cheery market stall holders, always warmly wrapped against the worst of the weather but yet always happy to assist with what is at its pinnacle of freshness or what would be better in a stew. I love the banter between them, the goading of the fish man to the guy selling eggs, or the fresh coffee truck steaming with fruity tang of freshly brewed espresso being poured delicately over hot milk - and is, actually I should imagine the very life blood of these poor souls who are up literally at the crack of dawn to sell us their goods.
THE layout of the stalls always intrigues me. How do they decide who goes where and what is the process is for setting up. (Although as a lover of the lie in, both is something I will never actually discover for myself.)
FOR me it’s not just about the fruit or the veg. I love the noise, the people, the smells and the characters there. The stall holders selling there wares and the children trying to sneak an apple of the stall. The tapestry of glorious riots of noise and life all indistinguishable from the each other. I love how the stall holders are so passionate about their goods that they polish and wipe to ensure each and every one is in its prime, ready for us to take home and prepare.
SUPPORT your local market, one day, it might not be there forever.