Yesterday I worked at the Wallingford Farmers' Market for the first time ever because Adam, the guy who usually mans my booth there, asked for the day off. He hardly ever asks for time off and I happened to have been able to cover the shift, so I did.
Business was just fine-not off the charts, but it's been a very slow couple of weeks so it was encouraging to be at a relatively small market and see steady traffic.
I'd had a dream the night before that I'd gone to see Richard Thompson, a musician who I adore, only it wasn't him performing but some other guy who did reasonably competent versions of his songs, but it just wasn't the same. I figured the dream was my way of working out some of my anxiety about whether the quality of my food suffers when I'm not at the markets personally. People do come up to me sometimes and say, "It's not the same when you're not there," but I can't be everywhere.
But as soon as I pulled up to my booth at Wallingford yesterday folks started asking, "Where's Adam?"
1 comment:
Don't know if you saw this already, but Pollan quotes Vilsak as saying something like "markets are not about food, but about people yearning for community." Maybe part of that hunger is for seeing the same people each week and developing a relationship with them.
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