For the past few weeks, I've been purchasing the majority of my food at downtown Nashville's Farmers' Market. As you may know, we had a terrible flood last May, and the grounds and building of the farmers' market were underwater. Fortunately, the city worked quickly to get the inside of the building renovated, and I must say, dramatically improved (although it still needs some work), and this summer, perhaps even as a result of the flood and the subsequent improved interest and support of the market, has seen it blossom.
When I lived downtown, up until last year, I did go quite often, although, I have to admit, not as often as I should have. Now I live out in the far suburbs, actually way way out on the proverbial county-line, I appreciate this resource even more, especially in its reborn form.
The selection of produce has always been plentiful, fresh, real, and unplasticky. I loved the mutant siamese-twin eggplants that would never pass muster for the perfect, slick vegetable displays at the grocery store, the new potatoes still partially caked in dirt, long, vibrantly green beans, a huge bag for a dollar, and still -husked corn plucked from the bed of a pick-up truck with out of county plates.