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The farmers market in Los Gatos is bustling on this particular Sunday morning, looking more like a scene out of a Norman Rockwell painting than a functional small-town marketplace.
In the town plaza, blankets are strewn across the grass, families are picnicking and blowing bubbles, some toddlers are wading through the fountain. Even the dogs are cavorting happily nearby.
All the while shoppers are busy purchasing fresh produce and other items at a leisurely pace. Many residents make this stop a regular part of their weekend routine, not only for the fresh fruits and vegetables, but for the ambiance as well.
How it works
The farmers market is a phenomenon that has taken off through the years as people discover the benefits of buying their produce fresh; it provides an alternative to the chain grocery store.
But make no mistake, this isn't some loosely clad collection of hodgepodge farmers—instead, it's highly organized. Farmers must be certified by the Department of Agriculture before selling at a farmers market. This guarantees that farmers grow their own produce and aren't merely reselling it.
"It's direct marketing from the farmer to the consumer and takes away the middleman," says Lori Oleson, an agricultural biologist with the Department of Agriculture whose agency oversees certification. Farmers can be fined and suspended for 18 months if found in violation, she says. But more stringent are the regulations of the markets themselves, which will ask the offender to leave for good.
These local markets allow farmers to circumvent the large distribution process so consumers can buy fresh, vine-ripened produce that was picked right before market.
"This gives consumers a better product," says Oleson.
Produce at grocery stores, on the other hand, must be picked early so it withstands travel and is given gasses for color, she says.
Another selling point of a farmers market is the wide variety of produce not readily available at chain supermarkets, like broccolini, a cross between broccoli and Chinese kale.
Goods offered at a market differ from city to city, depending upon the residents' personal preferences and factors like ethnicity. The markets have a careful balance of products for sale so as not to inundate consumers with too much of one item.
"There's a waiting list," says Melanie Defe, co-director of the market with Su Ellen Sterling. "Some farmers have been with us 12 years."
The two choose vendors carefully because of their limited space. Along with the produce and food items, they have a tool sharpener, something typically not found but that cooks find useful.
"We bring in booths we think people want, like low-carb pastries with no sugar for diabetics," she explains.
But they've had to limit all craft booths because of space constraints. The two manage only one other market, in Willow Glen.
"We're interested in small towns, communities with a real downtown," says Defe, talking while making the rounds of the vendors, greeting regular shoppers by name.
They also have plenty of organic produce, something consumers are demanding more of these health-conscious days. Before a product can be labeled organic, it must be inspected by the Department of Agriculture to make sure it follows rules to meet USDA organic standards.
The vendors
Arguably one of the more popular booths at the market is Bill Callahan's; most folks just refer to him by his moniker "Oyster Man," which suits Callahan just fine. He's got many identities, like the one of science teacher during the week at Watsonville High School.
Callahan's interest in shellfish dates back to his college years, when he graduated with a degree in oceanography from Humboldt State University. Now his interest runs more along the lines of a culinary focus.
"These are the last oysters of the day," he announces to customers, who are lined up eating their oysters right on the spot at his impromptu bar. A huge groan emits from the crowd. Callahan knows most of his customers by name. "I've met his mother and brother and catered his wedding," he says, pointing to one customer.
Such a fixture he is to the community, former Mayor Sandy Decker proclaimed him the "official Oyster Man of Los Gatos." And Callahan takes the title seriously.
This is one of the most social booths of the market; a steady stream of repartee ensues, probably due to the boisterous personality of Callahan himself.
"We come here for the oysters, not the vegetables," says one gentleman, steadily ingesting a series of oysters. Another customer tries to wriggle his way into the already crowded eating area as the others good-naturedly keep him out.
"I'm elbowing this guy out of here," he says to the group.
Such a routine is this for some that many have standing orders ready for them every Sunday. Not a bad idea considering the oysters, mussels and clams can run out, as they do on this particular day.
In the background can be heard the smooth sounds of the band Plan B, which is performing. The band plays at the farmers market about once a month, and although the pay "is down around the poverty level," that's not the motivation.
"We do it because we enjoy it," says band member T-Bone Walter—whose name is a tribute to and takeoff from blues guitarist T-Bone Walker.
Now retired, T-Bone met his band mates at an open-mike session.
The band's name refers to that old adage: When something goes wrong, resort to plan B. They heard it and thought "what a cool name for a band."
They play original material, and their music ranges from blues to rock to folk.
Another busy vendor is the crepe man, Tony Giakoumis, who's been at the market about three years. He learned the fine art of crepe making back in Greece from the French women he met who were vacationing on his island of Poros.
"I was only 18, just playing around and trying to impress the women," he says.
His crepes are made by the original French method, delicate and very thin, using only fresh ingredients from the farmers market, like the eggs and vegetables.
"People appreciate they are made from scratch right in front of them," he says.
He came here in 1986 as a student, graduating from San José State University with a degree in aviation management.
"I wasn't excited about flying, so I went into crepes," he says.
Flying is still a part of his life, though—he teaches lessons at the Palo Alto airport. And like so many at the farmers market, he also caters weddings, parties and corporate events.
The honey booth also has a loyal following. Co-owner Raven Stevens is explaining the benefits of eating a small amount of local honey to treat allergy symptoms to a customer that day. The reasoning is that ingesting local honey helps the body become tolerant of these allergens.
"Bees are flying around pollinating trees and plants—it takes 10,000 flowers to produce one teaspoon of honey," she says. So the honey contains pollen from these local plants, helping to develop a tolerance.
"People don't have a relationship with the land; they don't eat local food anymore," she says.
The bees are kept in Aptos, where she works with Anthony Stevens, who has been a beekeeper for more than 20 years and graduated from Los Gatos High School.
At the Olivas de Oro booth, Marti Menacho calls out to the crowd, "Have you tried our olive oil?" Getting customers to a booth helps facilitate what's known as the herd effect. Nothing attracts customers like a crowd, since nobody wants to be the first customer.
Menacho spends a lot of time educating people about the true meaning of the term "virgin olive oil." "In Italy, it's a lot more stringent about calling it 'virgin' or 'extra virgin' olive oil; it must be of the highest quality." This amounts to only 1 percent acidity and no negative attributes.
"My husband is a full-time farmer," she says.
The farm is a 160-acre orchard in Oroville, located in the Northern Sierra Nevada foothills.
As people sample the olive oil with bits of bread, a young girl watches from her parent's side. "Do you reuse the toothpicks?" she asks, after seeing customers deposit them in a container to the side. Everyone laughs as she's reassured they do not.
People-watching can be as much fun as the shopping itself. Someone walks by with a dog in their backpack. Dogs aren't allowed in the market area, but this one slips by because of his inconspicuous location. Babies are reposing comfortably in strollers, and shoppers stop to chat with familiar faces in the different booths.
Besides the obvious advantages of fresh produce, farmers markets fill other needs as well. They give people a chance to mingle with neighbors, chat with their favorite vendors and slow down enough to enjoy the process of shopping as much as the food itself.
In the fast-paced society of today, it's a throwback to another time.
The Los Gatos farmers market is held each Sunday in the Los Gatos Town Plaza.
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