Gerard Van der Leun has been to one too many “Farmers” market, and he’s reached his bullshit tolerance limit:
Everybody loves “Farmers” markets in America. They are everywhere now. They metastasize in our urban cores like eczema in a teenager’s armpits. Every snoburbia has to have one or more in order to be a bona-fide snoburbia. Where else, I ask you, can white people go to be reassured of the proposition that small, local, “sustainable,” and oh-so-organic farms can feed a nation of more than 300 million people for only three times to cost of current farming methods? Farmers Markets are malls for morons and we all love them. Pass the drool cup and the goat cheese samples, thank you.
I’m primed for the ordinary and established catechism of the Church of Eternal American Bullshit whenever I go to the “Farmers” markets, but I was unprepared for this fresh sign in an empty storefront on the hip Ballard side-street that supports merchants selling nut-butters at $50 a pound every Sunday. It promised levels of bullshit previously thought impossible [. . .]
Go read the whole thing. It’s worth the visit.
Back? Well, I’ve always had my doubts about “Farmers” markets . . . they all seem to sell a suspiciously large variety of foods that aren’t in season (yet are far too often advertised as “locally grown”). They’re not just selling lettuce and carrots, they’re selling modern-day indulgences: allowing city folks to buy themselves a bit of spiritual connection with the countryside. Except it’s usually not the countryside the buyers are thinking of . . .
I still remember the shocked look on the face of a co-worker, when Elizabeth pointed out to her that driving out to some farm gate and buying fruit and vegetables meant you were (usually) buying Californian or Mexican or even Chilean produce (except during those brief weeks when the local produce was in season). Most city and suburban dwellers have no idea about growing seasons.
Amusing related Twitter update by James Lileks:
Comment by Nicholas — May 18, 2010 @ 11:47