Farmers Markets

Who doesn't love a Farmers Market? Fresh produce, smiling merchants, tiny tidbits of season suitable fruits and baked goods. Unfortunately, the FM I journeyed to on Sunday didn't hold true to the expected vision. There are a few reasons contributing, and those local who find that it was the Santana Row Farmer's Market can most likely immediately guess. Instead of stall after stall of crafts, baked goods, cheeses, and most importantly- community feel; I instead found a rather quiet and somber affair, some redundant stalls, and little else to experience.

There were a few nice things. Some plump clusters of grapes, easily beating the other vineyard offers at the Market. A "new" fruit called a jujube- enticing enough to warrant a possible trip back, if I find a recipe for it. There were some early pumpkins, and it's true that a pumpkin will always make me smile.

Over all, it just felt rushed and sad to me, plastic and pretentious. It felt as though the only reason the Market existed at all was so that people could stop and say "I went to a Farmers Market this Sunday", to their friends. It felt false. Perhaps I'm used to Wisconsin, where the feeling of community pervades everything that happens in the city. Where the markets stretch for several streets, not one small courtyard. Where the farmers are truly farmers, and this is their passion, their life's blood. I know such markets have to exist in Northern California, I can feel it. In this windswept, pine-scented portion of soil, there must be a market that is alive.