The Farmers Markets of Los Angeles
Few places are as joyful to me as a farmers’ market. Here I am in March, hands clasped in glee, delivered for a few days from Maine’s oppressive winter into the bounty of California’s citrus season.
The colors and textures of a market are the first delicious feast that it offers. Just look at the romanesco: pointillism in real life.
I love a farm stand or market wherever I go, but California’s are matchless in their variety. I try to time our visits for the beginning of a trip, so I can luxuriate on citrus and stone fruit, ripe off the tree.
