Napa Farmers’ Market

I was able to find a close enough spot to all the stalls. Luck of the draw, yo. It was crowded. I donned my hat (I woke up too late to sufficiently do my hair, so- hey, presto!- fashionable head piece it was) and a light sweater and I was good to go!

The sky was filled with clouds, yet a hint of sun peaked though all the same. It grew in prominence throughout the morning, the heat and chance of sunburns along with it. Coupled with that were the strains of live music winding its way through the stalls of farmers’ wares.

A good friend was meeting me for our market foray; but I ended up arriving a few minutes before her. There was a van that had been converted into a small coffee shop; it’s power generator buzzed happily. I took one look and thought, coffeeeee…much in the same way a zombie might out and go braaaaiiinsss…or something like that. Boy, did I ever need a pick-me-up, and I here I was, about to get a cup of that nectar of the gods. I ended up ordering a latte. Yes, it was delicious.

Near the coffee van was a stall selling pastries (smart location), so after lidding and sleeving my drink, I wandered on over to have a look-see. If anything looked as good to me that morning, it was this. All kind of scrumptious pastries that could only go with something so good as coffee. It’s a bread and butter kind of thing, know what I’m saying? As I hadn’t yet eaten that morning, they looked especially mouth-watering. There was a line (no surprises there) so while I waited, I sipped gingerly on my latte. It hadn’t sufficiently cooled to my liking; but did I care? Nope.

“How can I help you?” A deep voice said.

I glanced up from my Twitter feed. “Huh?” I examined my surroundings. The short line previously before me was non-existent and here I was, now at the front. “Oh. Sorry.” As I scurried closer to the stall.

I browsed the selection, artfully and practically separated from the elements by a screen, and pointed at an apple turnover (there was a variety of different fruited turnovers, but I always gravitate toward apple). He handed me one and I passed over the cash and left a happier, less hungry person. I sipped on my coffee and nibbled my pastry while waiting for my friend. At one point I was forced to put everything down so I could flick an ant off of my arm.

Maybe it just wanted to say “hi”? The author shrugs. It could have done so from the ground. Jerk.

I finished my turnover- enjoyed every bite, thank you very much- and had just thrown away the paper wrappings when my friend arrived. Her adorable baby was nestled comfortably in the stroller. I waited with my friend while she bought her coffee and I savored my own. Its temperature was a little more manageable now. My friend was smart and got hers iced.

The stalls were situated in such a way that there were four rows, with two wide paths dividing them. You go down one path, browse the stalls on each side and then turn and go down the next path and browse the stalls on each side of that side of the market.

We walked while we sipped and while the baby napped like the angel she was. In total we spent a little over an hour, comprising of two and a half loops, browsing the stalls. One had ice-cream made from all natural ingredients and with far less fat, etc than other ice creams (I peeked at the nutritional facts on the side of one of the containers, too).

“Completely guilt free ice-cream!” The man at the stall declared. The ice cream was sold at a couple different stores in town, too.

My friend and I each sampled the coconut ice cream, which was green and also had flakes of coconut in it. We each loved it.

“Hm…this is dad-repellent.” My dad hates coconut, so there’s no way he’d be stealing it from me.

The man behind the stall laughed and told us a bit more about the ice cream and repeated that it was guilt free.

“So if you’re suffering from a bad break-up,” I began before trailing off suggestively, to laughter all around.

The man nodded. “Yes, exactly.”

“And it’s like a loophole,” I suggested, mouth full of ice cream.

Blink blink. Cue the tilted head and blank expression.


I awkwardly explained, “Because it’s like…it’s ice cream, it’s still amazingly good; but with less fat and better ingredients than other ice creams. So…healthier.”

Finally, it clicked, and the man laughed.

I could have bought some of the ice cream right then; but I had a couple errands to run after the market and I didn’t want it melting. Instead, I declared that I would later go to one of the stores that sells the ice cream and buy it there.

My friend and I went to a couple of the stalls selling locally grown fruit and I ended up sampling and then buying four of the most delicious peaches I’ve ever had in my life. I think they were called white peaches. If you’ve never had ’em, you’re seriously missing out. Next time you see them at your local grocery store, snatch them up. You won’t regret it.

We looped around to the other side of the market and browsed a vegetable stall where my friend bought a few things. There was also a cheese stall we stopped at where the woman let us sample some incredibly delicious cheeses. Mark that down on my list of things to get the next time I go to that farmers’ market.

Another stall we stopped at sold gluten-free bakery items. Now, I’m not completely gluten free (although I do my best to stay healthy, don’t get me wrong) but my friend is and she’s bought items from this place before. She even bought something this time- I think it was a muffin. We also sampled some of the bread which was mouthwatering.

There was another stall I stopped at- it sold empanadas. I bought one. It was too hot to eat just at that moment, so I stuck it in my purse. I also tossed away my now-empty cup of coffee.

My friend and I did another loop and sat down to eat our (my) empanada, which had cooled down by now, and (her) muffin. While we munched on the deliciousness (and good Groot, was that empanada freaking delicious), we chatted with an older couple who come to the farmers’ market fairly often (every week, I think they said) and who, today, ogled over my friend’s baby.

By that time the sun was out in full force, in all its sun-burning glory, as I mentioned earlier. Remember? Yeah. In case you’re wondering, my skin is slightly pinker now.

After we ate, we walked down the pathway and glanced at a few more of the stalls, but didn’t end buy buying anything else. I frolicked amongst some sunflowers. I didn’t buy any, but plan to in the future. After all, who doesn’t like sunflowers? And don’t tell me: “you don’t because you didn’t get them,” or I’ll lob spitballs at you.


One thought on “Napa Farmers’ Market”

  1. This is so YOU—again, your witty writing and informal voice draws me in—I’m in that farmers market with you. Love—espec Ally “Dad-repellent”; that jerky ant; and loophole ice cream. Brilliant 😍


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