My Farmers' Market Basket
Snow Day. Snow and extreme cold meant that only two vendors chose to brave the elements and show up to the January 20th market. I didn't make it this week.
California Dreaming on a January Philly Day
Ah, California. They do have winter there, but nothing like a lot of the country. And, when it comes to fruits and vegetables, the Golden State is a kind of paradise when it comes to freshness, variety, and availability.
Because Chris currently lives in Berkeley, and Lena attended graduate school in Monterey, I’ve had a few opportunities to enjoy the bounty of this place. I’ve marveled at the citrus trees, the olive trees, the rosemary bushes, and other edible vegetation, all just casually growing next to any old sidewalk.
The first time I was in Berkeley, with Chris, I had a total fangirl moment when, as we were wandering around, we stumbled upon Chez Panisse. In the realm of renowned restaurants, this place is a famous landmark for people like me–right up there with the Eiffel Tower, the Statue of Liberty, and Buckingham Palace. Alice Waters, owner and founder, is considered to be one of the most significant catalysts for changing how people think about sourcing local, organic ingredients and eating seasonally; Chez Panisse was, perhaps, the first “Farm to Table” establishment. As part of that, she was an early voice in promoting farmers’ markets and small farms. The abundance of farmers’ markets today is due, in large part, to Waters and others like her. (The Chestnut Hill Farmers’ Market set up its first barricades in July 2005.)
We checked out the popular Berkeley Bowl supermarket, noted for its extraordinary selection of produce. It wasn’t necessarily local or organic but, for example, I’d never before had a choice of what type of banana I might want to buy, same for avocados. And there were heaps of unusual agricultural items I’d never seen or heard of before.
And, of course, I visited farmers’ markets in Berkeley, Monterey, and San Francisco. Visiting a market is, without question, not the same as regularly shopping at one when you live in the area and that’s your market. Still, I enjoyed seeing what kinds of farm stands the markets had, and the different ways the farmers displayed their offerings. Many were straightforward, putting out their items in flats or crates, but some created visually appealing displays closer in style to what Taproot Farm and Rineer Family Farms do at their stands.
Almond Joy
And now for memorable purchases. With all due respect to East Coast peaches, I will never forget the densely sweet and succulent organic peaches Lena and I bit into at a San Francisco market. With peaches like that, who needs peach pie? And I will never forget the organic almonds I purchased as an easy-to-pack souvenir at the Downtown Berkeley Farmers’ Market. Almonds are not a farmers’ market offering in Philly, so I considered this a well-suited token of my trip, even though I had no special expectations for them.
Back home, after a couple of weeks, I wanted a little snack, so mindlessly opened the bag of these almonds. I grabbed a few, chewed and…..what was that? It was a wisp of a familiar flavor, slightly sweet. But what? I kept eating and, sporadically, those wisps would flit across my tastebuds: magical, then elusive, the kind of experience that makes one wonder if they are imagining things.
As I analyzed what was going on, I came to sense that the wisps were reminiscent of candy. Marzipan? I looked at the bag they came in, believing I’d accidentally purchased the almonds flavored with something. Nope. Nothing but organic almonds. And then, like finally placing a familiar face, it hit me.
“Almond extract.”
That was the flavor I was grasping for. The almonds were reminding me of almond extract. This is backwards, I know.
For all the almond flour and and almond butter we eat in our house (these are go-to ingredients for SCD cooking), along with plain, raw almonds, I’d never experienced that “almond extract” taste from any of those items. So, believe it or not, I’d never before consciously associated almond extract with actual almonds. I do now.
I credited this enlightening experience to the fact that I purchased the almonds direct from the farm’s stand at the market. But there may be more to it than that.
On the website for a farm that sells almonds at California farmers’ markets, Massa Organics, I read “We save our sweetest variety of almonds (nonpareil) to sell as raw and unpasteurized. Never heated or treated, our raw almonds maintain their natural flavors.”
Confession: I didn’t know that there were different varieties of almonds. When I buy almond butter, almond flour, or plain almonds, the label never mentions the type of almond. So, all this time, I thought an almond was an almond was an almond, and that they were all the same. But further internet searching taught me that there are multiple varieties, some sources stating over thirty!
I have no idea what variety of almond I purchased at the Downtown Berkeley Farmers’ Market that day and, sadly, I don’t remember the name of the specific farm. But perhaps the almonds were “nonpareil” or some other exceptionally flavorful variety.
I’ve not been to the Santa Monica Farmers’ Market. I found this book at a Philly-area used bookstore. Under “Almonds” the index points to many recipes including “Dried Plum and Toasted Almond Cream Tart” and “Local Olives and Almonds Roasted with Garlic, Lemon, and Herbs.” Almonds aren’t just for snacking.
I’ve also learned that, in California, green (immature) almonds, are their own culinary item. I first learned about green almonds from the Instagram page of Fanny Singer (Alice Waters’ daughter). The book pictured above suggests them as a springtime topping for fish. I wonder how different they are from mature almonds. Maybe, on another trip to California, I’ll get to try them.
Harvesting Almonds
“The most beautiful time of year in the orchard is during the bloom in late January and February,” says confectioner and former architect Rusty Hall, who dry-farms (using little irrigation) a ninety-year-old orchard in Paso Robles. “But the most satisfying moment is the harvest. My crew and I roll tarps out under the trees, ‘knock’ the trees, and the nuts tumble down onto the tarps. It’s the most satisfying sound, the sound of almonds hitting the tarps and our shoulders–like pennies from heaven. Or, in the case of almonds, nickels from heaven.” – The Santa Monica Farmers’ Market Cookbook
Did You Know…
“In fact, if you eat an almond anywhere in the world, there’s a good chance it came from California, since the state produces almost 85 percent of the global supply.” – Mark Hyman, MD
(from the book “Food: What the Heck Should I Eat?”)
Better Pecan
They weren’t local, of course, but Evie’s Snacks, a vendor who attended the Chestnut Hill Farmers’ Market for a few months in 2022-23, sold pecans harvested, exclusively, from Evie’s family’s organic pecan farm in Texas. Evie mainly sold her pecans with different flavors (churros, banana bread, smoked chili) but those aren’t okay for the SCD so, the first time they came to the market, I purchased a bag of their plain raw pecans. By then I’d already had my almond experience, so I wasn’t just politely supporting a vendor with my purchase. I was curious. Would I notice anything?
Oh yes. The difference between those family farm pecans, and the ones I’d get at any old store, was extreme. They had a lighter, crispier crunch. And as for the flavor: imagine the taste of ordinary pecans, then turn the volume all the way up. That was the dimensional eating pleasure of pecans from Evie’s family farm. I purchased a large bag every time they were at the market.
My advice: When you have the opportunity to buy nuts directly from the farmer, do it.
Dandelion Greens Salad With Pecans, Ginger, and Raisins
Here’s something I love to do with pecans and, probably, my all-time favorite leafy green: dandelion. The bitterness and thick crunch of dandelion greens really appeals to me. They were last seen at the Taproot Farm market stand in late November; I eagerly look forward to when they come back around.
Radicchio (when available) cut into thin strips, also works well for this salad.
Wash, dry then chop the dandelion leaves going across the stem (which I leave on).
Make a dressing of olive oil, apple cider vinegar, honey (ideally local), and a little salt.
Chop up some ginger and let it marinate in the dressing for several minutes or more.
Toss in the dandelion greens with raisins and pecans.
Note about ginger: Not at the market, but from other regional sources, I’ve encountered fresh, locally grown ginger in the fall. If you’ve never had it, fresh ginger has a white color with brush strokes of magenta, and the flavor is more delicate than the usual ginger root. Oftentimes, it doesn’t need to be peeled, just rinsed and prepared however you like. In October 2013, NPR did a story on this.
For Chez Panisse Nerds
Recommended fun.
Comments, suggestions, and recipes (especially anything nutty), are always welcome. And please feel free to share any stories of almonds, pecans, farmers’ market tourism, or unexpected eating experiences.
Till next week…Happy Marketing!
(The forecast looks good for Philly this Saturday. Taproot Farm predicts “greens galore!” Fingers crossed for dandelion greens but, regardless, I can’t wait…)
I love that picture of you!