The Farmers Market Box

Preserving traditions, ideals, values, spirit, …food…these are natural elements in living a sustainable lifestyle. Take only what you need and use everything you take. They are also the practices of the farms we do business with. Work with nature, nourish the soil, nurture relationships, pay it forward, educate while learning. These are inherent guidelines that allow farmers decades and centuries of fertile land and financial stability. In this 21st century, the speed of light is often not fast enough. This last unofficial week of summer, let us preserve tradition, slow down and make those guidelines our own. Save a seed, preserve a watermelon, make a dough from scratch. Know that preservation is not a trend, rather a principle that has afforded us the luxuries that we luxuriate in but should also appreciate. The slow process of preservation is the anti-establishment and as fall fashion would announce: it is the new black.

This past week the most valuable lesson that I learned is to let something speak for itself. In this field that can mean the farm, the farmer, the chef, the food they create and especially the produce itself. Observing with the senses can be profoundly more effective and memorable than speaking out loud. Let the product speak for itself and in that moment of silence, beauty in truth is achieved in volumes.

The Santa Monica Farmers Market is a landmark and a benchmark. It is one of the largest and original certified farmers markets in the state of California. It is steeped in history and gleaning from the culture of farming. On any given Wednesday morning, as the sweet salty ocean air breezes into Arizona Street and Second, truckloads of fresh harvests arrive, farmers in tow, bringing the rich scent of fertile soil and humble origins. Farmers from near and far rise far before dawn, put on their muddied boots and make the drive to the market to financially sustain their farms. Selling directly to earn $1 for a bunch of carrots versus $1 for a box of carrots is essentially the core of the farmers market. Selling at the market is a gamble. To avoid the temptation of going the commercial route in California’s mild climate takes guts. Farmers spend their years gambling on crops against the elements, whether they are natural or man-made.

It is the long hours of tireless work dedicated to each crop and each square foot of farm land, the impeccably beautiful food harvested for us day after day, week after week, the limited return for such work, the simple truth that farming is essential to our lives yet in a 21st century world technology is king. It is the amazement in my eyes that I can witness such an event as the farmers market unravel before my eyes – the summer months bringing hundreds of people to snatch a basket of figs, hold the perfect heirloom tomato or tear through ears of white corn, plucking what they deem is the best at the market right now. It is the idealism that the market represents and upholds, truth in food, in its honest and purest form. The food represents life and sustains livelihood. It is that which is most humbling. Humility is the essential ingredient to remember when you are making your next farmers market strawberry sorbet or pineapple heirloom tomato salad or piling fresh picked blueberries into a summer pie. It is the secret ingredient that reigns supreme and makes everything taste a little bit better for it.