|
“If everyone in the United States ate just one meal per week based on organic, locally grown ingredients, that would save our country over one million barrels of oil every week.” --Barbara Kingsolver
“Rosemary Pete” Vinci has been up for two hours, working in the garden before the sun has had time to bake the soil. The herbs have to be cut fresh. The clock creeps upon 7:00 a.m. The weatherman is calling for a 93-degree day, and already the humidity hangs heavy.
Vinci unrolls a plastic tarp and drapes it over a green produce stand. He unloads cellophane packages labeled ‘dried rosemary,’ ‘poultry blend,’ and ‘basil tea.’
He reaches into a cardboard box, pulls out cilantro, parsley, dill, sage, and, of course, rosemary. He gently and lovingly puts each on display. He nestles a stone etched “Rosemary Pete” between pots, double checks his cash drawer and hangs empty grocery bags. Vinci pushes his shoulder-length brown hair behind his ear…. and waits.
It’s a Saturday in June at the Charlotte Regional Farmers Market.
The Farmers Market doesn’t officially open until 8 o’clock, but savvy shoppers know to get here when the food comes off the truck. Outside, cars jockey for a few spots under shade trees. People meander through the open-air buildings holding coffee cups or pushing strollers. Others bear down with tight focus. They’re the ones seeking local growers who use organic practices.
The movement is called the “100-mile Diet,” and its members aim to eat seasonal vegetables and fruit grown within 100 miles of home. The late Dr. John Christopher called it ‘eating under your own fig tree.’ In the Carolinas, that means peaches, corn and tomatoes in the summer, collards, apples and nuts in the fall.
Vinci grows herbs in raised beds in his parents’ backyard. His first year at the Farmers Market he successfully sold cuttings from a dying rosemary plant. “I knew I had to expand,” he said. At age 19, he’s the youngest entrepreneur here. A marketing major at Johnson & Wales, “Rosemary Pete” is maximizing his training.
7:03 a.m. The first customer in line is Laura Vinroot. She scans the booths for jams and vegetables. “I’ve been coming here for years. The produce is fresh. But you have to get here early,” she says before buying bundles of chard. She drops them off in her car and returns. “I have a lot of people coming over for dinner.”
Vendors unload boxes and bins brimming with deep burgundy beets, carrots, onions, and lettuce. Customers begin gathering like bees to a daisy. At the Laughing Owl Farm stand, Dean Mullis converses with his regulars. Four people purchase corn shoots, Red Thumb fingerling potatoes, spicy greens and the juiciest Inchelium Red garlic they’ll ever press. By 7:30 a.m., Mullis’s line is seven people deep. A genteel southern woman says she came here last week and they were sold out of what she wanted. “You’ll have to excuse me,” she says before rushing away, “I don’t want to miss anything.” The Farmers Market offers what has been lost at modern grocery stores: a social connection and sense of community.
The clock clicks 8. People peruse the bins, slowing down to read signs or peer over shoulders. They make their way through four buildings: two contain produce, food and flowers; another has indoor and outdoor plants; and on summer Saturdays, the last warehouse showcases artistry talents with a sign that reads, “all crafts made with love and pride.”
The atmosphere is part European street market, part state fair. The air drips with the fragrant scent of flowers, baked bread, mint and strawberries. Three children shout: “Chocolate! Chocolate! Chocolate!” in front of the Knob Creek Farm ice cream stand. The vendor at Herbin’ Acres greets everyone with a cheery “Mornin’!” A man strolls by with a watermelon on his shoulder. A woman leans toward her friend and says, “This is fun!”
In Building B, local farmers including Grateful Growers, New Moon Farm, and ’N Thyme Herbs compete for business. Red Russian kale, golden scallopini squash, and Cherokee purple tomatoes form a rainbow of colors. In the mix are a woman selling goat cheese, a flower vendor, and Nova’s Bakery. A white banner hangs on the wall: Goodness Grows in North Carolina. But beware. Large vendors sell conventionally grown produce from outside the area. One reseller was hawking garlic from China and another, onions from Mexico. Customers must ask questions and look for tables displaying the “local grower, local food” signs.
The first wave of diverse customers comes fast and thick. A woman pushing a baby stroller stops in front of Vinci’s booth. She buys a bundle of dill and asks the best way to keep it. A woman with an accent shifts a child on her hip before buying a bag of his dried herbs. He chats with each person, exchanging smiles before exchanging money.
Across the aisle, Donnie Cline runs a booth called New Beginning Farm, selling all-natural produce from his 14 acres in Lincoln County. His grandfather farmed the same land. Cline sells a variety: carrots, radishes, potatoes, and shiitake mushrooms the size of Frisbees. He’s been selling at the Charlotte Regional Farmers Market for 12 years and is amazed at how keen customers have become. “I can’t believe the change. People want to know where their food is coming from. People are asking more questions like ‘Are you a local grower?’ People have started realizing, we need to get to know the grower,” Cline says. “When you support the local growers, you know where it’s coming from. It supports the local community.” People are waking up, he says, to how far their food has traveled before it hits their plate. Wearing a baseball cap, jeans, and boots, Cline fits the part. “Years ago, people laughed at me for growing organic” he says. “They said it couldn’t be done. Now everyone’s doing it.” And while he says he’s not rich, he makes a decent living. “I wouldn’t do anything else.”
At the T&K Farms booth out of Maiden, Don Oswald says last week they sold out of 60 dozen eggs by 9:30 a.m. They sell eggs from naturally raised chickens, pork products without additives and handmade goat’s milk soap as smooth as velvet cream.
Fresh food is the reason Mark Hibbs is here, buying local, this Saturday morning. He’s the chef and owner of “Ratcliffe on the Green” in uptown Charlotte, which focuses on contemporary Carolina cuisine. “I change the menu around what the farmers have,” he says. Hibbs makes a beet goat cheese salad using local ingredients. “I buy as local and organic as I can get. It makes a big difference in the quality of the food.” It may be slightly more expensive, he says, but it’s worth it.
One vendor he frequents is Nise Herbs. That’s Denise Smart’s nickname. She, her husband and daughter run their 18-acre farm in Stanly County. She’s at the Farmers Market, in her words, from tax time to turkey time. Her booth is swamped. “Everybody asks us if we grew it and is it safe,” she says. “People are more aware and they keep coming back.”
By 10 a.m., the parking lot is chaotic. A customer grabs the last bag of arugula from the purveyor at Herbin’ Acres. His variety has a mild nutty tone followed by a spicy punch. She tells him: “What you find at stores doesn’t have this much flavor.” Even though the market stays open until 6 p.m., local products are dwindling by lunchtime. The strawberry guy has two quarts remaining. Specialty of the House has no more pimiento cheese. And Rosemary Pete? He’s plum out of basil. By noon, he’s headed home.
~ Sheila Saints
To find the local growers at the CRFM, visit www.slowfoodcharlotte.org. To find a market near you, go to www.localharvest.org.
|
