Dirt Food

For the past four years, my father and kids and I attend the local farmers market on Saturday morning.  I try and get most of our fresh fruits and veggies there, along with bread and flowers.  There is an olive oil vendor, Mr. Bariani, who always comes out to talk to the girls.  This past Saturday, he gave our youngest a pink rose with all the thorns taken off.

One of my hobbies is preparing (and consuming) raw food.  I buy my dill and cliantro from the Vang family.  Onions and apples from the Mendoza’s.  The flowers from a booth I don’t the name of.  Oil olive from Mr. Bariani and strawberries from a farm in Oxnard.  Just about everything I need is at the market.

Generally speaking, the food we buy at the market is purchased from the people who grow it.  Most grow within 100 miles of where we buy.  Most of the food sold at the market is what is in season at that time.  I can’t buy apples in the summer.  Asparagus is only available for two, maybe three months.  Squashes are just coming in now and the carrots are now long and skinny, instead of the winter variety, which are short and fat.

These are great lessons for the kids as well.  The earth was designed to produce certain things at certain times.

There are now two markets as well as a store that is supposed to be an indoor, full-year market.  I’ll have to check that one and see if passes the hippie test.

If you have a market around you, I encourage you to check it out.

Anyone have any good farmer stories?

And so it goes.

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