The Greenmarkets of NYC

I grew up in Connecticut on land that used to be a horse farm (proved by the large, rusted out horse tub by our compost pile). My hometown, actually, was primarily farmland and my mother grew up on a farm in that very same town. So you could say farming, or at least agriculture of some sort, is in my blood. I spent a lot of sticky summer days beside my mom in our massive garden, picking green beans, weeding, and dropping Japanese beetles into jars of gasoline, which I loved (and is, in hindsight, rather disturbing). Aside from the mass beetle slaughter, I can’t say that I enjoyed gardening, but I relished the fresh produce that we had on our table at every meal.

Now that I’m living on my own in Manhattan, I miss those veggies even more. Plots in community gardens are few and far between, and obtaining one for yourself requires Macbeth-like machinations. Truth be told, I wouldn’t even have the time to devote to growing a healthy crop of weeds, let alone produce. This, however, is why Manhattan is a magical place, because we are blessed with some of the most wonderful farmer’s markets I’ve ever been to.

Officially called Greenmarkets (http://www.cenyc.org/greenmarket), the farmer’s markets of NYC are a full-on sensory experience. My favorite, and most frequently visited, is the mother of all of the Greenmarkets and is located in Union Square. It is always packed; with shoppers, tourists, families, foodies, chefs, and food voyeurs like myself. There is no shortage of material for the latter category. Various potted herbs are neatly lined up on tiered shelves, and in the heat of the summer they emit a clean, medicinal smell. Bins overflow with tomatoes in every shade of red, orange, yellow, and even purplish-green. Dozens of kinds of greens are packed into large plastic bins set onto tables, positioned so that the tops of the leaves unfurl over the edges of the boxes. And naturally, when you think about the various culinary possibilities at your fingertips with all of this fresh, glowing produce, your mouth begins to water and your belly grumble and sends you rushing to the baker’s stalls to grab a piece of homemade focaccia or a big chocolatey cookie. Or both. Not that I’ve ever done that before or anything.

But seriously, this is another reason why the Union Square Greenmarket is heavenly. Not only are there seemingly endless produce options, but several Greenmarket vendors offer organic meats and fish, homemade baked goods such as breads and baked goods, jams and other spreads, honey, pickles, juice, ice cream, yogurt, butter, cheese and even wine. Dancing Ewe farm is one of my favorite stalls to visit as they make a delicious artisanal goat cheese that comes in salted and unsalted versions. It’s scrumptious on baguette with a bit of fig paste. Another Greenmarket addiction of mine is the “Sour Cherry Stomp”, a lip-smacking cherry juice from Red Jacket Orchards. There is no saccharine, syrupy juice-from-concentrate taste here; the tart cherry flavor blooms in your mouth until your taste buds are tingling.

Although I have yet to sample goods from every stall and farm at the market, seemingly every stall is producing the same high quality produce and products loaded with flavor. If you can’t take my word for it (I’ll pretend my feelings aren’t hurt), then you can take the word of the chefs at Artisanal, Daniel, Bouley, Gotham Bar & Grill, Gramercy Tavern, Babbo and WD-50, among many, many others. Their chefs and sous-chefs are regularly seen shopping at the Greenmarket.

My one problem with the Greenmarket is that I can lose myself all too easily. You need to walk through at least twice to give each stall a decent assessment, but I always end up walking through at least seven times. So food shoppers, enter at your own risk—your 30 minute produce errand may turn into an epic journey through mounds of tantalizing pears, microgreens, plums, eggplants and summer squashes. At least, though, the vendors at the Greenmarket can provide you with a bottle of wine or brightly-hued flowers to make up for your tardy return.