I spent a great deal of time at our summer cottage in Northern Michigan where every Saturday morning there is a fresh farmers market. There is nothing more refreshing than walking along the harbor and getting your fresh veggies, fruit and flowers for the week. It seems so normal in the country. Fast forward to this week when I am working in Chicago in Old Town. Right across the street from Lincoln Park where this morning – Wednesday, there is a full blown farmers market. The chef from the hotel is over there buying all the fresh food for the hotel and all the neighbors from around Chicago are hustling and bustling with their baskets full of crisp apples, peaches and homemade pies. I look to the skyline and have to pinch myself when I am standing among trees overshadowed by the John Hancock Building. What is more amazing is that all the stalls are farmers from Michigan & Wisconsin. I lived in downtown Chicago (in the Gold Coast) when I was younger and never saw a farmers market. I mentioned that to a friend, who said, “this market has been coming here for over 30 some years.” I can’t believe that I never went to the market and then I realized that in my early 20’s I ran a nightclub, didn't get up until noon -
I never ate an apple and wouldn't have known what to do with an acorn squash. Funny how things that didn't matter then are the trendiest, coolest things going in urban living today. So whatever you learned from your grandma (pickles in a ball jar) are now the headlines in all the foodie magazines.