Why I am at the farmers market every weekend

You will often find me at the farmers market on weekends. But what does it really mean, as a small producer, to set up shop in a parking lot under a canopy, rain or shine?



The World Farmers Markets Coalition describes a farmers market as “a recurring and organized gathering where local farmers sell their fresh, locally grown and processed agricultural products directly to the consuming public — vibrant spaces for communities to connect with their food sources, foster relationships between consumers and producers, while supporting local economies and sustainable practices.”


A beautiful definition. And an accurate one.


Joining the market thirteen years ago was a chance to start something. Choosing to stay, after all this time, is something else entirely. It is an act of love for my community.


Friday evenings are for preparing for the market. Loading the car with the tent, the tables, the display, the jars. Saturday mornings begin before the sun. Setting up in a dark, cold parking lot, watching the sky slowly lighten while waiting for the first customers. And on rainy days — which in Vancouver are plentiful through the long winter months — those first customers may arrive late, or not at all.


Would you blame them? It takes courage and commitment to shop outdoors in all kinds of weather. It takes the same to show up and sell.


Over the years, I have learned what it truly takes to bring a farmers market to life. The work behind the scenes is enormous, and largely invisible to the public. A few years ago, I joined the board of the Vancouver Farmers Market, and more recently, the board of the British Columbia Association of Farmers Markets. This has deepened my understanding of what a local food system really means and the importance of access to fresh, quality food for everyone in our communities.


When you shop at your local farmers market, you are doing more than buying groceries. You are strengthening a local economy. You are meeting the people who grew and made your food , shaking hands with the producer, exchanging a few words, a recipe, a smile. These small moments matter more than we often realize.


April at the Market
It is still too early for the first fruit and berries, and my freezers are now emptied of last summer’s harvest. So what am I working on these days?


The delicate first flowers are making a brief and luminous appearance before the season moves on and the heat of summer wilts them. Violets, flowering currants, dandelion  and later this month, rose petals, are slowly finding their way into jars, the way good things do. These flower jellies are made from cold infusion, a process that takes several days. Because these flowers grow wild and in small abundance, each batch is extremely limited. They will appear gradually  on my website and at the market  over the coming weeks and months.


And today at the market, I saw the first stems of rhubarb. So many of you have already been asking, and I understand why. Rhubarb is a beautiful and singular flavour, one that belongs entirely to this moment in the year. The rhubarb and elderflower jams will follow in May.




See you at the market,
Geneviève


P.S. Thank you for choosing handmade. Every jar you bring home keeps this slow, seasonal work alive.