Eat, Walk, Jet!

The Ferry Plaza Farmer’s Market.

Now, I like food. And I like to eat. Over the last ten years, a handful of movements, from Slow Food to Farm to Table to the focus on localvore eating have slowly brought us more locally produced, artisanal, out-and-out high-quality ingredients, from meats to cheeses to produce to wine. I love all of these things. I’m lucky enough to live in Vermont, which is becoming a artisanal cheese heaven. Long gone are the days when Vermont was known only for Cabot Cheddar.

But I was floating a few feet above the ground during our trip to the Ferry Plaza Farmer’s Market last weekend. Our new friend Hilery walked us through the market, both pointing out the best vendors for whatever it was you wanted—mushrooms, seafood, tomatoes, chocolates—and shopping for the epic meal she had planned to cook on Saturday night.

I have never seen so many high-quality ingredients in one place. Ever. The sheer variety was astounding. Italian olive oils, black truffles, a half-a-dozen varieties of plums, dry-cured meats, fresh oysters, coffee, heaping boxes of heirloom tomatoes… Should I go on? This place is a dream for cooks. And even though I wasn’t planning on cooking a thing, I could still feast with my eyes and dream. I wasn’t the only one. You should have seen the look on Anna’s face as she struggled with whether or not to buy one of the most delicate, beautiful orchids we’ve ever seen. “Do you think I could bring it back on the plane? Would they let me? Oh, is this just an impulse? It’s sooo pretty! Gorgeous!”

The great part is, we were in for a treat. Hilery, one half of Mike-and-Hilery, who we were staying with, was once a chef and is planning a restaurant. I won’t go into detail, but let’s just say it’s a very small place with a focus on Italian food and a wine list featuring California’s bounty of oenophilic bliss. Hilery and Mike know as much about food—and wine—as anyone I know, and walking through the market with her was a revelation. This woman knows how to shop for food, weaving from vendor to vendor, picking cheeses, meats, veggies—a pork butt here, Mediterranean mussels there, a bright orange Chicken of the Woods mushroom, a bottle of Sicilian olive oil. Let’s just say it built quite a bit of anticipation for what is a long story involving a great crowd, a lot of wine, several courses, and the finest pasta dish I’ve had in a long time.

I have a photo of the menu, but it’s in Italian. I’ll ask Anna to translate it and then I’ll tell the story later…. For now, here are some photos.