When I first moved here, I went to the Pike Place Market once a week or so, usually on a weekday afternoon, when it would be relatively uncrowded. This was in the early 90s, and I had long hair, wore torn up jeans and flannel shirts, and was, for one of the few times in my life, coincidentally the height of some fashion. I sometimes felt like the Market should pay me to be local color or something. Back before "local color" involved multiple facial piercings, of course. Oh well.
Nowadays there are lots of neighborhood farmers' markets around Seattle, but I generally am not enough of an early bird to get up in time.
We came home just before the rains, in time to have a snack of balsamic vinegar, the cheese from Bleecher's and the bread from Le Panier, and then some olive tapenade and "rhapsody of herbs" olive oil, both from Madison.
I'm generally put off by geekery (that is, voluntary in depth knowledge about an obscure topic, for the
I guess there are a lot of food stuffs I'd like to be geeky about. Oh well.