me: hey here’s a picture of me eating an empanada at the mar vista farmers market
w: you look like an empanada
And if by that, Winnie, you mean I look like a nicely deep fried nugget of goodness, I’ll accept. Upon returning from NY, I found myself deeply missing how close and convenient everything was in NY as well as the PeopleTV (the constant stream of interesting and not so interesting looking people, especially while taking the subway) and decrying how far apart everything was in LA. So just when things were looking dire, I had a fantastically-LA LA weekend.
Within 24 hours from Saturday to Sunday, we hit up 3 farmers markets—Santa Monica, West LA, and Mar Vista—loading up on passionfruit, persimmons, plums, leeks, baby bok choy, pistachio nuts, apples, and more. Our usual Sunday ritual of yoga then West LA farmers market (see, told you it was ueber-LA) was disrupted when we couldn’t find the necessary ingredients for our contributions to porkday #6 at our very small and very cute farmers market. To which, up until Sunday, we had been fiercely loyal. Heeding the call of necessity, we drove to the Mar Vista market and were amazed. And felt betrayed. And delighted. Our Sundays will never be the same again. An empanada stand! A coffee cart! A knife sharpener! A cheese stall! Three blocks of beautiful vegetables and fruits! The French bread dude with the Frenchiest accent ever who disappeared from our WLA market weeks ago! Yes, we’ll feel guilty and yes, we’ll have to sneak back to our old market for Mr. Ha’s apples, but who can resist the clarion call of better selection and fatty fried things, both, at once? Not us.
(You’re thinking why don’t you just go to the Santa Monica market which’ll have everything? The answer, my friend, is that there’s a great small-market vibe in MV where you can sit back and take in the scene, which SM lacks despite its largesse. Plus, SM has a more upscale vibe best described with three words: designer baby strollers.)