Nothing feels more virtuous than rolling your calico bags, preferably with a dog in tow, to a market of a Saturday morning (except, maybe driving past Revolver on your way home and staring superiorly at people smoking while they queue to get back in).
We used to hightail it to the Vic, but now the mountain comes to Mohammad; the Preston farmers market is on at the primary school two or three streets over. I like it - it's small but big enough and the stall holders are all chatty, genuine farming types... The butchers are especially nice.
Probably the best guy though is the egg and mushroom man.
He's curious looking with big oogly blue eyes and is uber enthusiastic about his eggs, and so he should be - you can buy a dozen double yolk eggs for like, $6.50 and he has photographic evidence of triple yolk eggs. I like to have the same conversation with him each month about the lack of regulation in relation to 'free range' status. It's a pretty good conversation, definitely worth repeating - I've a few interesting facts I like to relay and he listens patiently. Sometimes I re-imagine this conversation in my head.
The other goodie is the chai lady, I'd wager best chai in Melbourne. She sells it hot and in tea/concentrate form. The concentrate is as distinct from syrup and doesn't have any sugar/honey/sweetener in it. She tells me it is easy to make too, but turns out chai isn't half as appealing when you have to make it yourself. Bit like rice paper rolls I suppose.
Kitty
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