On Saturday morning, after a full evening of rain (sleeping in a tent that was short the few pieces required to make it weather-resistant), Maya and I awoke and headed into downtown Burlington with a three-piece agenda: Find coffee, find a bar that showed the Arsenal vs. Manchester United game and, as an afterthought, find out where the Burlington Farmers Market resides.
Burlington is so small that we found its Farmers Market even before we found a place to park.
We saw mountains of heirloom tomatoes.
And soy beans on the stalk.
The Burlington Farmers Market was made up of two lanes of brightly colored produce. Its hours ran a little later than most markets (2 p.m.) and it featured an artisans market, where Maya and I both picked up some goats’ milk soap.
The handmade pottery was tempting, but the “how to get it home” problem made my decision easy. Next time.
The most unique part of the market – one, alas, that we does not come with its own picture – were the root beer floats and wine tastings. We mistook took the sight of the root beer tap for the kind of tap that we would soon see in our sports bar. The idea of beer pouring freely in a downtown park – during a farmers market, no less – in Burlington piqued our interest and caused Maya and I to ask the man selling us $12 worth of potatoes if there were open container laws in Vermont. (If so, I thought to myself, our agenda would likely take a different turn). It turns out that the laws are the same, but no one seems to care.
“There’s wine tasting over there,” the guy pointed to a booth a few dozen feet away.
Tempting, tempting. But not before coffee.
Burlington Farmers Market
City Hall Park