This Saturday marks the moment when the producers take back the Capitol Square from the bankers. In a place of wing tips and expensive suits, a few straw hats and bib overalls will spring up. Instead of paper-shuffling professionals, the square is populated by dirt-working growers. If there were ever a moment when the two identities of Madison and Dane County are fused, it is at the first outdoor Farmers' Market of the year.
This Saturday brings all the fruits, maple syrup, flowering plants and every other exemplary, edible good from beneath the sun and beneath the soil. More than the sunshine and talk of finals, the Farmer's Market indicates when the grip of winter is better forgotten than left persistent. The market makes summer seem almost invulnerable, as if the grass was always green.
Being at the Farmers' Market on this first Saturday morning is far more necessary than going out this Friday night. The market whisks away any hangover better than staying in bed, as aromas of all the spices conquers even the smell of The Plaza. The experience of the market is sobering with its atmosphere, as lake breezes and the persistence of pleasant people overpowers any tiredness.
The Farmers' Market has three distinct phases. There are the first hours, when the dawn greets the ambitious vendors and a few wondering buyers. Then the market becomes something more like a bazaar as the crowd swells and spills onto the side streets. As the morning turns to noon, the market closes up in a two-hour process, practically giving away whatever remains.
The first phase is preferable for connoisseurs who wish to snap up the freshest foods. It's easy to pick up some bread that steams as you break it or cheese curds that not only squeak, but also retain the warmth from production. The choicest vegetables ride in with morning light but you'll have to sacrifice a little sleep to enjoy it.
In mid-morning the crowds tend to be overwhelming, sometimes pushing people along instead of letting them stare. Strollers and dogs show up, sometimes together. This makes the market more like a carnival, as other vendors take to Mifflin and State Street to satisfy the urge for coffee or candles.
Around 12, the crowd is packing away its treasures, ready to cook and enjoy the cornucopia. At this point some vendors try to sell off any extra perishable products they have. Prices plummet drastically and stingy buyers realize how much they can into a bag for a few dollars.
The market officially shuts down at 2 p.m., though its energy has wound down long before that. The resulting emptiness that pervades the Capitol Square is rather eerie, as if Madison is a ghost town without the market. Thankfully that feeling passes quickly because the taste of another Saturday market is already on your tongue.
blschultz@wisc.edu.
