Rillito Farmers' Market

It was a sunny Fall Sunday in Tucson, where no one was confused about the time because we never change our clocks.  Not-Kathy and I walked on the multi-use path for 2 miles before we began to shop.  It might sound counter-intuitive to get hungry before looking at groceries, but these were such healthy groceries, and the walk was the second in my Early New Year's Revolution (sic FlapJilly) of walking at least a mile, outside, every single day, so the Market at the end of the road seemed like a lovely congratulations from the world.

Plus, there were lots of tables and chairs for resting and for eating, and the black clad young man on the left kept putting out more and more of them.

As at all Farmers' Markets, there were plants.

I won't dwell on the paucity of the vegetables available; this is the desert, after all.  But in addition to the few tables of onions and potatoes and squash, there was this display of mushrooms.

Not-Kathy couldn't believe her luck.  She and the vendors struck up a happy conversation about the Lion Mane mushroom

which apparently tastes like crab (or lobster).  I stood in awe, taking in nature's bounty, and wondering who was the first person brave enough to eat that tufted monster?

There was a lot of fish and beef and honey and eggs.  There were home made soaps and lotions, wooden salad bowls and leather jewelry. There were salsas and tamales and other delights.  Like the T-shirts said, this event is for locavores.

Even Jewish locovores.

shout out to the owner, a high school classmate who traded up from pizzas to bagels.