How the Farmer’s Market Fed My Heart
There’s a moment after a breakup, once the legal dust settles and the sofa becomes a little too familiar, when the walls start whispering things like, “Maybe you should go outside.” So last Saturday, I listened.
Not to the walls (I’m not that far gone), but to the part of me that remembered I have legs, sunglasses, a sundress I haven’t worn in awhile, and a desire to be around other nice humans. I grabbed a beautiful basket and went somewhere that felt safe, low-stakes, and full of life.
My Forays into the Farmer’s Market.
No reservations. No small talk with married friends who feel weird asking “How are you really?” Just sunlight, red ripe strawberries, and the vague promise of a scrumptious sample or seven. The minute I arrived, my senses were ambushed in the best way.
Smell: Fresh sweet basil. Cut peaches. That unmistakable scent of baked bread from a vendor who definitely has a cult following and might be baking sourdough for emotional support.
Sight: Tomatoes so red they looked fake. Peaches blushing like they were in on a juicy secret. Old couples holding hands. Dogs in tiny bandanas. A group of dudes playing folk music.
Taste: A cherry tomato that exploded like a flavor grenade in my mouth. Local honey that made me question my loyalty to anything in a plastic bear bottle. And a tiny square of goat cheese that made me say “mmm” out loud with zero shame.
And here’s the thing: I didn’t feel alone. I felt part of something. Part of a community!
People were slow strolling. Smiling. Touching produce like it was sacred. One woman let me go ahead of her at the flower stall, saying, “You look like you need these more than I do.” (She was right.)
I walked away with a bag full of color: vibrant greens, bright yellow squash, orange carrots, golden peaches and a bunch of fresh mint. The peaches made me sentimental and I came home and made my Granny’s peach crisp. It was so beautiful I took a picture of it (recipe in text box).
But more than that, I felt…fed. Not just from the food, but from the air, the ease, and the reminder that joy doesn’t have to be a grand gesture. Sometimes it’s just sunshine on your face while you bite into a peach.
So, if you’re looking for a soft re-entry into the world post-breakup—one that doesn’t require mascara or answering, “So what happened?”—try the farmer’s market. You might not leave with a date, but you’ll definitely leave with peaches and a spring in your step!
Granny’s Easy Peach Crisp
3 cups sliced peaches (5 or 6 peaches, keep peel on if using fresh) Note: Strawberries and blueberries can also be sprinkled in, if desired.
1 tablespoon lemon juice
One cup flour
1 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
One beaten egg
6 tablespoons melted butter
Optional: vanilla ice cream
Place peaches/other fruit in 10 x 6 baking dish and sprinkle with lemon juice. Sift together dry ingredients and egg and toss with fork until crumbly. Sprinkle over peaches/other fruit. Drizzle with butter. Bake 30 to 40 minutes at 375. This is best served warm (especially with scoops of vanilla ice cream) so either bake just before eating or warm it up.
