About Sover Scene


  • I've been a freelance writer since I was 21, covering art, culture, music, current events, politics and travel. I have a degree in art history, was in the gallery business for a decade in San Francisco before moving to Vermont and am a single mom of two groovy kids and a hep cat named Dudley. The Sover Scene appears each Thursday, spotlighting fine art, film, literature, music, dance and other cultural events in Southern Vermont, in both the print version and on the Herald's site in the InViTe section. My other hat is a PR & marketing business, writing communications for a broad range of organizations from local non-profits to int'l corporations: annieguyoncommunications.com
    ~ Annie Lawrence Guyon
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Food and Drink

June 22, 2006

Farmers markets cultivate creativity

My tatty old edition of the Oxford English Dictionary proffers several definitions of the term "culture," the most compelling of which reads "enlightenment and excellence of taste acquired by intellectual and aesthetic training." Here in Southern Vermont, there is an ever-expanding inventory of creative achievements to which that description perfectly pertains, such as the fine arts, literature, theater, music, dance, etc.

Amidst the oceanic range of inspired innovations in our region, however, there is another form of artistry that unassumingly transcends more typical, intellectually satiating media and which, I respectfully submit, spawns a sociological poetry in and of itself - that is, your local farmers market.

The poetry is in the sublime, simpatico and potent simplicity of what is, for many communities in Southern Vermont, a weekly convergence of immensely skilled, visionary and hardworking agricultural entrepreneurs who are helping to change the way many Vermonters think about both cuisine and community.

Some might surmise that the only culture to be found at a farmers market is of the curdish ilk, with which dairy farmers craft delicacies like herbed chevre or peach frozen yogurt, but these events are also imbued with a refreshingly engaging yet tranquil, thought-provoking yet down-to-earth (pun unavoidable) sensibility which, I believe, epitomizes Vermont culture in general.

Strolling past booths festooned with vivid bouquets of lavender and bedecked by rustic breads, delicate honeys, fresh eggs, heritage non-hormone meats or artisan cheeses, one's first realization is that farmers markets are as aesthetically exquisite and intoxicatingly fragrant as they are scrumptious. Some also showcase local crafts, such as handmade jewelry, clothing, cards and yarns, making the experience a true festival of the senses.

At the Bellows Falls Farmers Market, live music and masterful massages are also on hand (pun entirely avoidable), so that, prior to sampling the edible fare, you can have tense shoulders de-stressified whilst listening to soulful homegrown tunes.

Of course, all these delightful sensorial indulgences are but a chorus line to the main stars of the show - the sumptuous displays of vibrant, organic, nutrient-packed, often heirloom (read: ultra flavorful) produce that redefine the concept of gourmet groceries, even for the most zealous yuppie (which somehow begs the point that even the new 59,000-square-foot Manhattan Whole Foods has nothing on us). This stuff is so recently plucked from Mother Earth, you can almost feel sunlight still pulsing through the capillaries in a head of red leaf lettuce or the soil's embrace continuing to cool a hefty bunch of damp carrots.

But proceed at your own risk, because once you've done the farmers market thing, it makes the oft-wilted, world-weary produce in mega corporate grocery chains seem nearly ersatz, with imported cantaloupes about as firm as post-party piƱatas and Florida oranges that seem to have taken a ride on Disney World's Indiana Jones Adventure en route to New England.

It's not only about quality, either, for there are plenty of less visible but equally vital benefits inherent in every local farmers market. There's the environmentally smart notion of sustainable, chemical-free agriculture, the reduction in fossil fuels needed to move produce from farm to table and the absence of middlemen in the economic chain.

Add to that the extraordinarily crucial community component - of staying connected to your neighbors, getting to know your local growers and teaching your kids about the importance of not only healthy foods but a healthy local economy (nice place to lay their weekly allowance on them) -- and what you've got is a collective culinary homage to the great American entrepreneurial spirit, small town mettle and simple, wholesome living.

A jaunt to your local farmers market is much like hanging out at a neighborhood block party but an eco-groovy, health-wise, kid-friendly, culturally edifying one that includes a satisfying, cost-effective shopping trip as well. Most are open-air, take place rain or shine and run through early-to-mid-fall, but call or e-mail for full details.

I doubt the OED folks were thinking of multigrain baguettes or Brandywine tomatoes when they deemed "enlightenment and excellence of taste" an intrinsic part of the term "culture" but, considering the high-caliber bounty, forward-thinking sensibilities and colorful weekly gatherings proffered by our local farmers, I believe they exemplify everything that is nourishing for body, soul and community about Southern Vermont culture.

Copyright 2006-2007 Rutland Herald & Times Argus.