There’s nothing like a Sunday morning farmer’s market in
California.
In the early days of November, it’s still sunny and warm,
bringing a crossover of summer and fall produce. I have a craving for winter
squash – roasted butternut, chunked then drizzled with butter and brown sugar;
spaghetti squash, forked into strings and piled with homemade sauce; acorn
squash, halved and roasted.
Here at the Oakland farmer’s market, I’m on the waterfront
at Jack London Square. The walkway is lined with booths, filled with kale,
apples, basil and cauliflower. I pick up broccoli, bok choy and a giant
butternut.
After tasting some hummus – cilantro/avocado and garbanzo/garlic –
that goes into the bag too along with pita chips to scoop it up with.
Surprisingly, there’s a booth with strawberries. That seems so wrong for
November so I pass it by.
My husband and I talk about why food is entertainment. Why
indeed. I’m ogling the guys making crepes. Correction, I’m ogling the crepes.
They are piled with ham and
eggs, tomatoes and peppers.
I check my watch. Close enough to lunchtime. We
order up a spinach crepe that comes with caramelized onions and cheese.
Armed
with two forks and two knives, we head to a bench with a view of the marina.
This is why we’re here. The waterfront. The marina. The Bay.
We watch elegant yachts come and go. There’s a group lesson for kayaking about learning
the basics of holding a paddle.
In the distance is the City, looking so pretty
and clean from here.
The Bay Area ferry loads up a crowd and heads across the
water. From here, you can travel by water to San Francisco, Sausalito, Angel
Island and more. Behind us, trains rumble by.
Oakland has had a mean reputation for decades but the Sunday
market here is refreshing. I’ve heard of the renewal happening here and seeing
it is uplifting.
It’s a relaxing place to spend a Sunday morning.
