Pawtucket Market

Sorry for the gap in posts. I have every intention to update this blog as regularly as possible. We've been 'sorting it out' as they say. Living rent free in your mothers basement, with no job and very little responsibility might seem like a dream to some, but for Chris and I it is a bit of a challenge.

We moved back East from San Francisco, in part, because we felt removed and out of touch with our families but we did not realize how independent we had become over the years. Our life out West was our own. We underestimated what our responsibility to our families would be once we eliminated our 3000 mile buffer zone. There was a lot that went on day to day that, thankfully, got lost in distance and time changes. I'm sure that most of this minutia is exaggerated because we are not in our own space, and once we are on our own things will not seem so intense. This whole life change is a learning experience for me and right now I'm trying my best to soak up all that I can, as fast as I can, in order to adapt.

On a less personal and much more fun note, I spent yesterday morning at the Pawtucket Farmers Market. I drove about an hour to a big, industrial, brick building that had been re-purposed to house artists studios along with the Saturday market throughout the winter months. I have been craving green garlic and pea shoots. They are a sure sign of Spring at the Ferry Building in SF and I was hopeful that, although Spring has just barely sprung here, I might find these simple pleasures at this market.

The main hall where the vendors set up their tables had high ceilings and brick walls along with white wash beams that made it fresh and new. The wood floor was weather worn but polished and creaky beneath my feet. I arrived too early to make any purchases so I wandered slowly through the space eying each stall as vendors set out their goods. There were farms with beautiful pastel eggs and tons of baby salad greens. There was a man with fresh fish and shellfish that looked like it had just been plucked from the icy Atlantic. Poultry and meat, multiple varieties of apples, root veggies, winter greens and perfect looking baked goods all tempted me.

At exactly 11am the bell rang signaling the opening of the market. Quite a few folks had been strolling around early on and within a short period of time the hall was bustling. There was a jug band to enhance the warm and lively scene. Children with fresh food in their hands and mouths jiggled and danced. I watched and longed for my own market so far away, thankful that this one was here.

I found pea shoots right off the bat. The green garlic was a bit harder to locate, but eventually I found that too. The look, smell and taste is so indicative of the season. It is grassy green and has a light fragrance, a savory version of the soft scent of spring flower buds. The flavor is bright but not as intense as mature garlic bulbs. It reflects the newness of the season and the warming changes in the weather before the intensity of the summer sun sets in. ...BTW, I just spent five minutes googling the 'smell of garlic' so I could be more precise. Not much on the "interweb" to clarify. If anyone has got any specific descriptors I'd love to hear them.

In addition, I found kale flowers to use as salad garnish, downed a delicious bottle of fresh cider before I even made my way out of the building and found a local cheese company, Narragansett Creamery selling the most rustic, perfectly smelly, sharp and creamy Gouda-like cheese. Couldn't resist!

All in all, my morning was buoying. In the midst of so many adjustments it lifted my spirits to fall back into an old and familiar pattern, the Saturday market.