EDITOR’S NOTE: Some behind-the-scenes information on this Mother’s Day: Leigh Sherrill is the mom of Susan Axelrod, who wrote the farmers market-supermarket comparison in this week’s Source.
I love farmers markets. Our local one in Boothbay, open in the summer, is such a friendly, happy scene: the dogs and small children running about; the lure of calories from the home-baked goods tables; the fresh flowers, fruits and vegetables in season; the smell of fresh roasted coffee; meats without antibiotics.
So why do I seldom shop there?
At my age, 74, remembering is difficult. The morning has come and gone before I remember that it’s farmers market day. With usually only two people to feed, a special drive from Southport to Brunswick in winter and to Boothbay Center in summer just doesn’t seem worth it. And face it: The food may be fresher, but it is more expensive, and I drive right by the Boothbay Harbor Hannaford on the way to the farmers market.
In a small town like ours, the local supermarket offers the same sort of meet-your-neighbors experience as the farmers market, year ’round. Our Hannaford employs local people too, and often offers local farmers’ produce in season. My own backyard garden gives my husband and I beans and peas, and a few tomatoes, as well as thyme, mint, chives, garlic and onions.
Eating well is a pleasure. Supporting our hard-working farmers is a worthy endeavor. But the sea and the tennis court call. My own gardens need weeding. In the winter, the window seat with a good book is my preferred place to be. For me, food is a necessity, not a recreation. Let’s eat and get it over with, so we can play.
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