Saturday, June 28, 2008

D.C. Markets Part 1

If only all politicians ate great peaches think what we could accomplish….. Last week, I traversed the city in search of every farmers market I could find. I hit my stride on Saturday, my first weekend day in the city. I popped out of bed, threw on some walking shoes and headed toward Eastern Market near Capital Hill, well known for its local produce and artisan bizarre on weekends.

While coffee might be fuel of federal policy making, a good congressperson needs top notch edibles to start their day…may I suggest a sun ripened melon? In the out door stands of Eastern Market, on 7th street and Independence, I walked though piles of peaches, their perfume floating through the heat to my nose like steam rising from the tidal basin after a hard afternoon rain. I had to buy one. The North Carolina peach that juiced all over my chin (and down my shirt) might be the best I’ve ever had. Further along, I cupped a warm tomato in my hands, its skin unblemished and taught. Yep, I bought that too.

I sampled local apple cider, delicious lemon hummus, fire hot cilantro salsa and cucumbers sprinkled with rock salt. And that was just outside. Inside the building there is a great lunch and breakfast spot. Every weekend, the line weaves through the door as patrons wait for scrambled eggs from local hens, or fluffy pancakes with homegrown berries. If you’re in a lunch mood why not try the crab cakes and coleslaw or a big fat meat sandwich? Oh yum!

The seafood, meat and cheese counters are really something to praise. Dozens of inventive sausages, whole fish and aged Goudas line the glass cases. It’s a great place to stock up for the week’s protein.

If you visit, be sure to check out the open air stalls first, the samples abound and whether you planned on buying anything, you’re taste might just overcome your pocket book. My peach only cost me a quarter. Remember to bring cash, venders don’t take credit cards.

1 comment:

rjbarczak said...

Nothing like a fresh juicy peach, except perhaps a handful of just picked, perfectly ripend rasberies, or a dark plump plum that forces you to eat another to find that the first truly was perfection. Really fresh, really home grown,seasonal die for! sbil