October 10th, 2020

I was walking Jasper in the Hillside woods this morning and crossed paths with a gentleman who was walking alone.
  
"How are you doing," he stopped to ask.
"Good," I said. "Considering,"

The answer to that once banal question requires a qualifier these days.
I wasn't sure I knew this man, through his mask, but he lingered and seemed to have more to say,  "I just want to thank you for the farmer's market, Pascale," he said. "It's been a balm for me." I smiled. "It's been a balm for me, too."

I hear this type of comment a lot these days. Most often at the market, but also when I am at the pharmacy, supermarket, or on the Aqueduct trail. I don't often get to say it back. 

Yes, it's my "job" to bring a farmer's market to you each week. But it's obviously more than a job. It's been a balm for me since the very first Saturday morning I set foot on the market plaza so many moons ago, trading a job in journalism for one in delivering good food to good people.

I know that I speak on behalf of the market committee and all of our volunteers when I say the market has always been a place for us to reconnect with what's simple, right and beautiful in the world, and now more than ever.

We feel so privileged to be able to provide a weekly slice of "normal" in the midst of all the crazy. No matter how destabilizing those tweets and headlines get, you can be sure those white tents will go up on Saturday morning. A vendor will forget his tent-weights, a shopper will drive into the parking lot in the wrong direction, the Greek vendor will arrive very, very late, the coffee guy's van will give him trouble, the smoked salmon will sell out by 10 a.m., the flowers will take our breath away and Onassis will charm you into buying
cold brew.

Someone will bring up Lenny Bee and his smoked trout even though he hasn't been at the market in years. Vendors will barter bread for fish and ham for pie at the end of the day, and, when the tents are packed up and shoppers long gone, I will inevitably stumble on yet another shopping list left behind:
WH brioche buns, pound of ground beef, tomatoes, shallots, leeks, potatoes, apple pie... And the sweet mundaneness of it will make me feel that, together, we will get through this.

Here's a batch of comforting soup recipes to make this fall including one for lamb and winter squash in chile broth, since Wil-Hi Farm will be here this week. Sea Change Farm has been hit by frost and Sam Ritter is hanging her shingle until next spring. She wishes everyone a safe winter. 

See you at the market!